"My husband's godson--we must remember he is that, Mabel!--could
never be guilty of the infamous conduct ascribed to this Chilton by
Winston Aylett's anonymous friend. I am accounted a tolerable judge
of character, and I maintain that it is a moral impossibility for my
instincts and experience to be so utterly at fault as these two men
would make you believe. As to the corroboration of your
'impression,' that would be consummate nonsense in the eye of the
law. Let us sift the pros and cons of this affair as rational,
unprejudiced beings should--not jump at conclusions. And I must say,
Mabel"--was the consistent peroration of this address, uttered in a
mildly-aggrieved tone, while the blue eyes began to shine through a
rising fog--"it seems to me very singular--really wounds me--is not
what I looked for in you--that you should rank yourself with my poor
boy's enemies!"
"I, his enemy!" The word was a sharp cry--not loud, but telling of
unfathomed deeps of anguish, from the verge of which the listener
drew back with a shudder. "I would have married him without a single
glance at the past! Let him but say 'it is untrue--all that you
fear and they declare,' and I would disbelieve this tale, instantly
and utterly, though a thousand witnesses swore to the truth of it.
Or, let him be all that they say, I would marry him to-night, if I
had the right to do it. But I promised--and to promise with an
Aylett is to fulfil--that I would be ruled by my guardian's will,
should the investigation, to which Frederic himself did not object,
terminate unfavorably for my hopes, and contrary to his
declaration."
"It was a rash promise, and such are better broken than kept."
"Your Bible, Aunt Rachel--to-night, I cannot call it mine!--commends
him who swears to his own heart and changes not," replied the niece,
with restored steadiness. "It would have been the same had I refused
my consent to Winston's proposal. I am a minor, and who would wait
two years for me?"
"Anybody who loved you, provided your trust in him equalled his in
you," said Mrs. Sutton, slyly.
Mabel's answer was direct.
"You want me to say that I do not believe this tale of Mr. Chilton's
early errors; to brand it as a mistake or fabrication. You insinuate
that, in reserving my sentence until I shall have heard both sides
of it, I show myself unworthy of the love of a true man; betray of
what mean stuff my affection is made. I suppose blind faith is
sublime! But for my part, I had rather be loved in spite of my known
faults, than receive wilfully ignorant worship."