"She said, nothing of this last night," remarked the young man to
Mrs. Hartley.
"Her resolution was taken after you went away," was replied.
"And you, no doubt, advised the step," said Mr. Florence, with
ill-concealed bitterness.
"Why do you say that?" was quickly asked.
"How can I draw any other inference?" said the young man, looking at
her with knit brows.
"Explain yourself, Mr. Florence!"
"Do my words need explanation?"
"Undoubtedly! For, I cannot understand them."
"There are events in my past life--I will not say how bitterly
repented--of which only you could have informed her."
"What events?" calmly asked the lady.
"Why lacerate my feelings by such a question?" said Florence, while
a shadow of pain flitted over his face, as Memory presented a record
of the past.
"I ask it with no such intention. I only wish to understand you,"
replied Mrs. Hartley. "You have brought against me a vague
accusation. I wish it distinct, that I may affirm or deny it."
"Edith Walter," said Edwin Florence, in a low, unsteady voice, after
he had been silent for nearly a minute.
Mrs. Hartley looked earnestly into his face.
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