s aware that no man in the
ordinary course of events would be less likely to offend in that way
than Mr. Gray. But in this case Mr. Gray should not, he thought, have
done it. He had come to Mr. Gray about money and not about his wife's
beauty. "I hardly think we need discuss that," he said, still with
a heavy frown on his brow. "Perhaps you will think over what I have
said to you, and name a sum to-morrow."
"At the risk of making you angry I have to speak," continued Mr.
Gray. "I knew your father, and have known you all your life. If this
is to make her miserable, and if, as I gather, she has committed
no great fault, will it not be--wicked?" Mr. Gray sat silent for a
few moments, looking him in the face. "Have you consulted your own
conscience, and what it will say to you after a time? She has given
all that she has to you, though there has not been a shilling,--and
no money can repay her. One fault is not pardonable,--one only
fault."
"No, no. I do not accuse her."
"Nor dream that she is guilty,--if I understand the matter rightly."
"No, I do not. But I do not come here to be interrogated about her
after this fashion,--nor to be told that I am wicked. For what sins
I commit I must be myself responsible. I am unable,--at any rate
unwilling,--to tell you the circumstances, and must leave you to draw
your own conclusions. If you will think over the matter, and will
name a sum, I shall be obliged to you." Then he was about to leave
the chamber, but Mr. Gray interposed himself between his client and
the door.
"Pray excuse me, Mr. Western. I know that you are angry, but pray
excuse me. I should ill do my duty to an old client whom I respect
did I not dare, as being older than he is, to give the advice which
as a bystander I think that he requires." Mr. Western stood perfectly
silent before him, but clearly showing his wrath by the frown upon
his brow. "I venture to say that you are taking upon yourself as a
husband to do that which the world will not pardon."
"I care nothing for the world."
"Pardon me. You will care for it when you come to consider that its
decision has been just. When you have to reflect that you have ruined
for ever the happiness of a woman whom you have sworn to love and
protect, and that you have cast her from you for some reason which
you cannot declare and which is not held to justify such usage, then
you will regard what the world says. You will regard it because your
own conscience
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