No one spoke, for no one knew what to say. Jean broke the silence,
saying coolly, "May I ask how those letters came into your possession?"
"In tracing out your past life, Sydney found your friend Hortense. She
was poor, money bribed her, and your letters were given up to him as
soon as received. Traitors are always betrayed in the end," replied
Edward sternly.
Jean shrugged her shoulders, and shot a glance at Gerald, saying with
her significant smile, "Remember that, monsieur, and allow me to hope
that in wedding you will be happier than in wooing. Receive my
congratulations, Miss Beaufort, and let me beg of you to follow my
example, if you would keep your lovers."
Here all the sarcasm passed from her voice, the defiance from her eye,
and the one unspoiled attribute which still lingered in this woman's
artful nature shone in her face, as she turned toward Edward and Bella
at their mother's side.
"You have been kind to me," she said, with grateful warmth. "I thank you
for it, and will repay it if I can. To you I will acknowledge that I am
not worthy to be this good man's wife, and to you I will solemnly
promise to devote my life to his happiness. For his sake forgive me, and
let there be peace between us."
There was no reply, but Edward's indignant eyes fell before hers. Bella
half put out her hand, and Mrs. Coventry sobbed as if some regret
mingled with her resentment. Jean seemed to expect no friendly
demonstration, and to understand that they forbore for Sir John's sake,
not for hers, and to accept their contempt as her just punishment.
"Come home, love, and forget all this," said her husband, ringing the
bell, and eager to be gone. "Lady Coventry's carriage."
And as he gave the order, a smile broke over her face, for the sound
assured her that the game was won. Pausing an instant on the threshold
before she vanished from their sight, she looked backward, and fixing on
Gerald the strange glance he remembered well, she said in her
penetrating voice, "Is not the last scene better than the first?"