"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."