Part 48 (1/2)
”Of course it was careless.”
”And ought you not to think more of me than that? Have you not done me an injury, sir, when you owed me all solicitude and every possible precaution?” This was not to be denied. If he chose to receive such letters, he was bound at any rate to keep them secret. ”But men are so foolish--so little thoughtful! What did she say, George?”
”She behaved like an angel.”
”Of course. Wives in such circ.u.mstances always do. Just a few drops of anger, and then a deluge of forgiveness. That was it, was it not?”
”Something like it.”
”Of course. It happens every day,--because men are so stupid, but at the same time so necessary. But what did she say of me I Was she angel on my side of the house as well as yours?”
”Of course she was angry.”
”It did not occur to her that she had been the interloper, and had taken you away from me?”
”That was not so. You had married.”
”Psha! Married! Of course I had married. Everybody marries. You had married; but I did not suppose that for that reason you would forget me altogether. People must marry as circ.u.mstances suit. It is no good going back to that old story. Why did you not come to me sooner, and tell me of this tragedy I Why did you leave me to run after her and write to her?”
”I have been very unhappy.”
”So you ought to be. But things are never so bad in the wearing as in the antic.i.p.ation. I don't suppose she'll go about destroying my name and doing me a mischief?”
”Never.”
”Because if she did, you know, I could retaliate.”
”What do you mean by that, Mrs. Houghton?”
”Nothing that need disturb you, Lord George. Do not look such daggers at me. But women have to be forbearing to each other. She is your wife, and you may be sure I shall never say a nasty word about her,--unless she makes herself very objectionable to me.”
”n.o.body can say nasty things about her.”
”That is all right, then. And now what have you to say to me about myself? I am not going to be gloomy because a little misfortune has happened. It is not my philosophy to cry after spilt milk.”
”I will sit down a minute,” he said; for hitherto he had been standing.
”Certainly; and I will sit opposite to you,--for ten minutes if you wish it. I see that there is something to be said. What is it?”
”All that has pa.s.sed between you and me for the last month or two must be forgotten.”
”Oh, that is it!”
”I will not make her miserable, nor will I bear a burden upon my own conscience.”
”Your conscience! What a speech for a man to make to a woman! And how about my conscience? And then one thing further. You say that it must be all forgotten?”
”Yes, indeed.”
”Can you forget it?”