"No, no! my dear!" said Mrs. Sutton, earnestly. "I am shocked and

astonished that you should ever have labored under such a delusion.

Frederic told me the story, and a dreadful one it was, the day old

Mrs. Tazewell was buried. Wasn't it wonderful that he never knew

whom Winston had married until he saw her leaning upon his arm in

the graveyard?

He recognized Mr. Dorrance in the house, but supposed

him to be a visitor at Ridgeley and a relative of Mrs. Aylett,

having heard that her maiden name was Dorrance. As to his being your

husband, it did not at first occur to him, so bewildered was he by

your meeting and the thoughts awakened by it. But at sight of HER

the truth rushed over him, nearly depriving him of his wits. He soon

got out of me all that I knew, and by putting this and that

together, we made out the mystery. I was so grieved and indignant

and horrified that I was for sending him forthwith to Winston, that

he might clear himself of the shocking charges they had preferred

against him, by exposing the motives of his accusers.

But he was stubborn and independent. 'It can do no good now,' he said. 'Fifteen

years ago this discovery would have been my temporal salvation. And

Dorrance is Mabel's husband. I cannot touch him without wounding

her.' I could not reconcile this mode of reasoning with my

conscience. If wrong had been done, it ought to be righted. I did

not sleep a wink all night. I wept over my noble, generous,

slandered boy, and over you, my darling! but my chief thought was

anger at the shameless depravity, the cold-blooded cruelty of the

brazen-faced adventuress who sat in your angel mother's place. For

aught Frederic or I knew, her real husband was still alive. He had

never heard of the divorce, you see, and the circumstance of her

marrying Winston under her maiden name looked black.

"Well! I pondered upon the horrible affair until I could hold my

peace no longer. Frederic and Florence went home with Mary Trent

next morning, and knowing that Winston must pass the upper gate on

his way to court, I put on my bonnet soon after breakfast, and

strolled in that direction. By and by he rode up, stopped his horse,

and began to talk so sociably that before I quite knew what I was

doing, I was in the middle of my story. I wonder now how I did it,

but I was excited, and he listened so patiently, questioned so

quietly, that I did not realize, for several hours afterward, what a

blaze I must have kindled in his heart and home, whether he believed

me or not. The next thing I heard was not, as I expected, that he

and his wife had quarrelled, or that he was going to challenge

Frederic for having belied him, but that poor Dorrance was very ill

with some affection of the brain. It was not until a year

later--just after his death--that people began to talk about the

strange carryings-on at Ridgeley; how Mr. and Mrs. Aylett occupied

separate apartments, and never sat, or walked, or rode together, or

spoke to one another, even at table, unless there were visitors

present. Nobody could imagine what caused the estrangement, and for

the sake of the family honor I guarded my tongue. She must be a

wretched woman, if all of this be true. She is breaking fast under

it, in spite of her pride and skill in concealment. I ought not to

pity her when I remember how wicked she has been; but there is a

look in her eye when she is not laughing or talking that gives me

the heart-ache."




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