"Why do you say such cruel things to me, then? Such inconsistent things, too. If I was good enough to marry you, I was good enough to marry your father."

"But you were never good enough to marry either of us, my dear. If you will take a little time to reflect on your antecedents, you will acknowledge that you were not quite good enough to marry any honest man," said Mr. Fabian, coolly.

"Yet you asked me to marry you," she said, sobbing softly, with her handkerchief to her eyes.

"Beg pardon, my dear. I think the asking was rather on the other side.

You were very urgent that we should be married, and that our betrothal should be formally announced."

"Yes; because you led me to believe that you were going to marry me."

"Excuse me. I never led you to believe so, simply allowed you to believe so. What could a gentleman do under the circ.u.mstances? He couldn't contradict a lady."

"Oh, what a prevarication, Fabian Rockharrt, when every word, every deed, every look you bestowed on me went to a.s.sure me that you loved me and wished to marry me!"

"Softly, my dear. Softly. I was sorry for you and generous to you. I gave you the use of a pretty little house and a sufficient income during good behavior. But you were ungrateful to me, Rose. You were unkind to me."

"I was not. I would have married you. I could not have done more than that."

"But, my dear, your good sense must have told you that I could not marry you. I have done the best I could by you always. Twice I rescued you from ruin. Once when you were but little more than a child, and your boy-lover, or husband, had left you alone, a young stranger in a strange land--a girl friendless, penniless, beautiful, and so in deadly peril of perdition, I took you on your own representation, and introduced you into my own family as the governess of my niece. I became responsible for you."

"And did I not try my best to please everybody?" sobbed the woman.

"That you did," heartily responded Mr. Fabian. "And everybody loved you.

So that, at the end of five years' service, when my niece was to enter a finishing school, and you were to go to another situation, you took with you the best testimonials from my father and mother and from the minister of our parish. But you did not keep your second situation long."

"How could I? I was but half taught. The Warrens would have had me teach their children French and German, and music on the harp and the piano. I knew no language but my own, and no music except that of the piano, which the dear, gentle lady, your mother, taught me out of the kindness of her heart. I was told that I must leave at the end of the term. And my term was nearly out when Captain Stillwater became a daily visitor to the house, and I saw him every evening. He was a tall, handsome man, with a dark complexion and black hair and beard. And I always did admire that sort of a man. Indeed, that was the reason why I always admired you."

"Don't attempt to flatter me."

"I am not flattering anybody. I am telling you why I liked Captain Stillwater. And he was always so good to me! I told him all my troubles.

And he sympathized with me! And when I told him that I should be obliged to leave my situation at the end of the quarter, he bade me never mind.

And he asked me to be his wife. I did consent to be his wife. I was glad of the chance to get a husband, and a home. So all was arranged. He advised me not to tell the Warrens that we were to be married, however.

So at the end of my quarter I went away to a hotel, where Captain Stillwater came for me and took me away to the church where we were married."

"You had no knowledge that Alfred Whyte was dead, and that you were free to wed!"

"He had been lost seven years and was as good as dead to me! Besides, when a man is missing and has; not been heard of for seven years, his wife is free to marry again, is she not?"

"No. She has good grounds for a divorce that is all! To risk a second marriage without these legal formalities, would be dangerous! Might be disastrous! The first husband might turn up and make trouble!"

"I did not know that! But, after all, as it turned out, it did not matter!" sighed Rose.

"Not in the least!" a.s.sented Mr. Fabian, amiably.

"After all, it was not my fault! I married him in good faith; I did, indeed!"

"Did you tell him of your previous marriage? That is what you have not told me yet!"

"N-n-no; I was afraid if I did he might break off with me."

"Ah!"

"And I was in such extremity for the want of a home!"

"Had not my father and mother told you that if ever you should find yourself out of a situation, you should come to them? Why did you not take them at their word? They had always been very kind to you, and they would have given you a warm welcome and a happy home. Now, why need you have rushed into a reckless marriage for a home?"

"Oh, Fabian!" she exclaimed, impatiently, "don't pretend to talk like an idiot, for you are not one! Don't talk to me as if I were a wax doll or a wooden woman, for you know I am not one!"

"I am sure I do not know what you mean!"

"Well, then, I loved the man! There, it is out! I loved him more than I ever loved any one else in the whole world! And I was afraid of losing him!"

"And so it was because you loved him so well that you deceived him so much!"

"Didn't he deceive me much more?"

"There were a pair of you--well matched! So well, it seems a pity that you were parted!"

"Oh, how very unkind you are to me!"

"Not yet unkind! Only waiting to see how you are going to behave!"

"I have never behaved badly! I was not wicked; I was unhappy! Unhappy from my birth, almost! I had no evil designs against anybody. I only wanted to be happy and to see people happy. I honestly believed I was lawfully married to Captain Stillwater. He took me to the Wirt House and registered our names as Mr. and Mrs. Stillwater. And we were very happy until his ship sailed. He gave me plenty of money before he went away; but I was heartbroken to part with him, and could take no pleasure in anything until I got a little used to his absence."

"I think you told me that you met him once more before your final separation. When was that meeting? Eh?"

"Fabian Rockharrt, are you trying to catch me in a falsehood? You know very well that I never told you anything of the sort I told you that I never saw him again after he sailed away that autumn day! I waited all the autumn and heard nothing from him, I wrote to him often, but none of my letters were answered. At length I longed so much to see him that I grew wild and reckless and resolved to follow him. I took pa.s.sage in the second cabin of the Africa and sailed for Liverpool, where I arrived about the middle of December. I went to the agency of the Blue Star Line, to which his ship belonged, and inquired where he was to be found.

They told me he had sailed for Calcutta and had taken his wife with him!

It turned me to stone--to stone, Fabian--almost! I remember I sat down on a bench and felt numb and cold. And then I asked how long he had been married--hoping, if it was true, that my own was the first and the lawful union. They told me, for ten years, but as they had no family, his wife usually accompanied him on all his voyages. So she had now gone with him to Calcutta."

"I suspect the people in that office were pretty well acquainted with the handsome skipper's 'ways and manners,' and that they understood your case at once."

"I do really believe they did," said Rose; "for they looked at me so strangely, and one man, who seemed to be a porter or a messenger, or something of that sort, said something about a sailor having a wife at every port."

"So after that you came back to New York, and did, at last, what you should have done at first--you wrote to me."

"There was no one on earth to whom, under the peculiar circ.u.mstances, I could have written but to you. Oh, Fabian! to whom else could I appeal?"

"And did I not respond promptly to your call?"

"Indeed you did, like a true knight, as you were. And I did not deceive you by any false story, Fabian. I told you all--even thing--how basely I had been deceived--and you soothed and consoled me, and told me that, as I had not sinned intentionally, I had not sinned at all; and you brought me with you to the State capital, and established me comfortably there."

"But you were very ungrateful, my dear. You took everything; gave nothing."

"I would have given you myself in marriage, but you would not have me.

You did not think me good enough for you."

"But, bless my wig, child! for your age you had been too much married already--a great deal too much married! You got into the habit of getting married."