`You know it then--and you can be so calm!' said he, surveying me with profound astonishment, not unmingled with a kind of resentful bitterness, as it appeared to me.
`I have so long been aware of--' I paused in time, and added, `of my husband's character, that nothing shocks me.'
`But this--how long have you been aware of this?' demanded he, laying his clenched hand on the table beside him, and looking me keenly and fixedly in the face.
I felt like a criminal.
`Not long,' I answered.
`You knew it!' cried he with bitter vehemence--and you did not tell me! You helped to deceive me!'
`My lord, I did not help to deceive you.'
`Then why did you not tell me?'
`Because, I knew it would be painful to you--I hoped she would return to her duty, and then there would be no need to harrow your feelings with such
`O God! how long has this been going on? how long has it been, Mrs. Huntingdon?--Tell me--I MUST know!' he exclaimed with intense and fearful eagerness.
`Two years, I believe.'
`Great Heaven! and she has duped me all this time!' He turned away with a suppressed groan of agony, and paced the room again, in a paroxysm of renewed agitation. My heart smote me; but I would try to console him, though I knew not how to attempt it.
`She is a wicked woman,' I said. `She has basely deceived and betrayed you. She is as little worthy of your regret as she was of your affection. Let her injure you no farther: abstract yourself from her, and stand alone.'
`And you, Madam,' said he sternly, arresting his walk and turning round upon me--`you have injured me too, by this ungenerous concealment!'
There was a sudden revulsion in my feelings. Something rose within me, and urged me to resent this harsh return for my heartfelt sympathy, and defend myself with answering severity. Happily, I did not yield to the impulse. I saw his anguish as, suddenly smiting his forehead, he turned abruptly to the window, and, looking upward at the placid sky, murmured passionately, `O God, that I might die!'--and felt that to add one drop of bitterness to that already overflowing cup, would be ungenerous indeed. And yet, I fear there was more coldness than gentleness in the quiet tone of my reply:--
`I might offer many excuses that some would admit to be valid, but I will not attempt to enumerate them-- '
`I know them,' said he hastily, `you would say that it was no business of yours--that I ought to have taken care of myself--that if my own blindness has led me into this pit of hell, I have no right to blame another for giving me credit for a larger amount of sagacity than I possessed--'
`I confess I was wrong,' continued I, without regarding this bitter interruption; `but whether want of courage or mistaken kindness was the cause of my error, I think you blame me too severely. I told Lady Lowborough two weeks ago, the very hour she came, that I should certainly think it my duty to inform you if she continued