"We should condemn no man unheard," she argued.
"It is but fair to give him an opportunity of telling his side of
the story."
"Winston's letter will inform him of what and by whom he is
accused," said Mabel. "He will have the opportunity you speak of. I
should not be content with my brother's action, were this not so. I
have been over the whole ground again and again, since sunset.
We--you and I--are powerless. This story is either true or false. If
what we have read really happened, what could arise from our
correspondence with the offender against honor and virtue? It would
but complicate difficulties. If he is unjustly accused, he can prove
it, and put his slanderers to shame without our promptings. Our
interference would be an intimation that he needed our
championship."
"I believe he will clear himself of every stain," returned Mrs.
Sutton earnestly. "This is either a vile plot concocted by some
secret foe, or the Frederic Chilton mentioned here," pushing the
letter away from her on the table, with a gesture of loathing, "is
another person."
"That is very unlikely!"
Mabel leaned her forehead wearily upon her hand, and did not finish
the sentence immediately.
"I will be candid with you, aunt, upon this subject, as I have tried
to be in every other confidence with which I have burdened you.
Frederic Chilton was a student in the law-school, which was also
attended by Winston's correspondent, and at the date specified by
him. I have reason to think there was something
unpleasant--something he wished to conceal from me, and perhaps from
everybody else, connected with his stay there. He referred to it
ambiguously on the last evening of his visit here, as a folly, a
youthful indiscretion. I have the impression, moreover, that a
married woman was mixed up in this trouble, whatever it was--a lady,
some years older than himself, whose husband, a naval officer, was
absent upon a long cruise. This may be the germ of the story related
here, and it may have nothing whatever to do with it."
In saying "here," she pointed to the letter. Both avoided touching
it as it lay between them, the big seal uppermost, and looking more
like bright, fresh blood than ever, in the lamplight.
"My dear, all this proves nothing--absolutely nothing--except that
the shock and overmuch solitary musing have made you morbid and
unreasonable."
Mrs. Sutton assumed a collected air, and delivered herself with the
mien of one who was determined to submit to no trifling, and to
credit no scrap of evidence against her friend which
counter-reasoning could set aside.