You, of course, can’t realize how essential a
little ready money sometimes is in a period of financial
depression; but Henry left a note which gave me an
awful shock, while, at the same time, it made clear
Miss Wildmere’s scheme. She had simply put
me off, that she might hear from Wall Street.
If Henry had failed she would have decided for Arnault,
and I believe my attentions led to his tricky transaction—that
he loaned the money and called it in when he believed
that Henry could not meet his demand. I must be
put out of his way, for he reasoned justly that the
girl would drop me if impoverished. Thus indirectly
I might have caused Henry’s failure—a
blow from which I should never have recovered.
Henry is safe now, he assures me; and, oh, Madge,
thank God, I have found her out before it was too
late! I had fully resolved while oft trouting
that I would break with her finally if I found Arnault
at her side again. Now he may marry her, for
all I care, and I wish him no worse punishment.
I shall go to my room now and write to her that everything
is over between us. The fact is, Madge, you spoiled
Miss Wildmere for me on that morning drive the other
day. After leaving your society and going into
hers I felt the difference keenly, and while I should
then have fulfilled the obligations which I had so
stupidly incurred, I had little heart in the affair.
Her acting was consummate, but a true woman’s
nature had been revealed to me, and the glamour was
gone from the false one. Now you see what absolute
confidence I repose in you, and how heavily this strange
story bears against myself. Could I have given
it to any one for whom I had not a brother’s
love, and in whom I did not hope to find a sister’s
gentle charity? I show you how unspent is the
force of all those years when we had scarcely a thought
which we could not tell each other. I have little
claim, though, to be a protecting brother, when I
have been making such an egregious fool of myself.
You have grown wiser and stronger than I. You won’t
think very harshly of me, will you, Madge?”
“No, Graydon.”
“And you won’t condemn my fraternal affection
as contrary to nature?”
She was sorely at a loss. She had listened with
quickened breath, a fluttering pulse, and in a growing
tumult of hope and fear, to this undisguised revelation
of his attitude toward her. She almost thought
that she detected between the lines, as it were, the
beginning of a different regard. He believed
that he had been frankness itself, and his words proved
that he looked upon his fraternal affection and confidence
as the natural, the almost inevitable, sequence of
the past. She could not meet him on the fraternal
ground that he was taking again, nor did she wish
him to occupy it in his own mind. To maintain
the attitude which she had adopted would require as
much delicacy as firmness of action, or he would begin
to query why she could not go back to their old relations
as readily as he could. She had listened to the
twice-told tale of the events of the past few days
with almost breathless interest, because his words
revealed the workings of his own mind, and she had
not the least intention of permitting him to settle
down into the tranquil affection of a brother.