{Dormer.} _(continuing)_ "I took a new name and fostered the report of my death, saying to myself, 'He will love and marry again, and then I, the wreck of what I have been, will come back to life and destroy his peace,'"

_(Eric disappears.)_

{Kate.} Not a woman--not a woman!

{Dormer.} _(continuing)_ "But in time my heart softened and my hate died away. My conscience won't let me rest, and now, when remorse has broken me, I drag myself to where Eric is, to learn what evil I have caused. If there be any wrong, it is I that have worked it--not my deceived husband, whom I have not the courage to face." Signed "Mathilde."

{Kate.} Is that all?

{Dormer.} _(pocketing paper)_ That is all. _(Kate rises)_

{Kate.} How comes this--creature to know of the existence of the woman who loves Eric Thornd.y.k.e?

{Dormer.} She asked me if I thought such a woman existed. I replied, yes. "Then," said she, "whoever this woman is, and wherever she may be, carry my warning to her before it is too late." _(puts paper away and goes to sofa L.)_

_(Kate struggles with herself for a moment; her manner becomes completely changed.)_

{Kate.} _(lightly)_ Ah, thank you, Parson Dormer, for your goodness, and for your cold journey. May I give you some wine?

{Dormer.} No. _(he resumes his cape and gloves, then holds out his hand to Kate)_ Good-night, _(she takes his hand)_ Don't come down, I can find my way out. _(looking round)_ I used to quarrel here with your father.

{Kate.} Good-night. I shall look for you to-morrow at our harvest supper--it is the happiest night in our year, _(screams and falls back, Dormer catches her--he is going--she clutches his sleeve)_ Parson!

Parson! look! _(she points to the written confession which lies upon the floor)_ Don't leave me alone with that!

{Dormer.} That--what?

{Kate.} That. Take it away with you--take it away!

_(Dormer crosses to table, takes up paper and puts it in his pocket, and crosses back to L.)_

_(lightly again)_ Strange creatures, we women, aren't we--and superst.i.tious, a little. Remember, Parson dear, we must keep our secret. Think of the scandal and misery for poor Eric if this history became known. For Eric's sake, remember.

{Dormer.} You bear the young gentleman no grudge?

{Kate.} I--no.

{Dormer.} _(looking at her)_ Ah, you'll eat a breakfast to-morrow--I shan't--and my wound is twenty years old. Good-night to you.

_(He goes out. Kate listens to his receding steps L. D.)_

{Kate.} _(softly)_ Good-night! Good-night!

_(There is the sound of the closing of a door in the distance)_ Gone! _(she looks round)_ Quite alone _(She shuts the door softly, then with uncertain steps walks to the settee L., upon which she sinks with a low moan--starts up wildly)_ It's late! Let me see! _(she takes her wedding ring from her pocket)_ My wedding ring--I'll hide that; it is such a lie to carry about with me. _(She hurriedly opens a small drawer in the bureau R., of it and brings it to table)_ It will rest there, and can never be laughed at. _(she takes off her bracelets)_ These too--Eric's gifts, _(she throws them into the open drawer, then takes the locket from her neck)_ Eric's portrait, _(she opens the locket and gazes at the portrait, earnestly)_ Another woman's husband! _(she rises)_ n.o.body sees me.

_(music--kisses locket--Eric covers his face with his hands. Kate throws locket into the drawer. As she does so, she catches sight of the papers lying there. She seizes them)_ Papers! I had almost forgotten.

They would tell tales, if--if anything bad happened to me. _(She examines them. Eric comes from the recess as if about to speak. Kate opens a letter. From Eric when his regiment was quartered at--(reading)_--"My own Kate." Oh! _(Eric sinks horror-stricken, upon the chair by the bureau--his head drops upon his arm. Kate finds an old photograph)_ Ah! a photograph of the church where we were married. I remember--we entered at that door --not the one under the porch--and it brought us to the chancel. Ah, here it is--_(reading)_ "The Parish Church of St. Paul, at Blissworth, in Yorkshire."

How pretty. It's one hundred and fifty miles away.

What a long journey for such a marriage. A valentine!

_(she takes the papers and kneels at the fire-place.

She goes down on her knees before fire and burns the papers, first kissing them. Eric raises his head)_ A lucky thing that Christie made such a bright fire for me. _(shivering)_ And yet it is cold.

Ha! I suppose heat never comes from burnt love letters, _(to the letters)_ Good-bye! Good-bye! _(Eric rises and slowly comes down C.)_

{Eric.} _(hoa.r.s.ely)_ Kate!

{Kate.} _(with a cry she starts up and faces him)_ Eric!

_(Music stops.)_

{Eric.} I know everything. I have heard. What have you to say to me?

_(Kate walks feebly towards him behind chair.)_

{Kate.} _(leaning on chair for support)_ Nothing but--leave me. I am looking at you now for the last time, _(pa.s.ses behind table to C. R., of bureau)_

{Eric.} How can I leave you when we are bound by such ties? My love chains me to you--nothing earthly can break that?

{Kate.} The same words with which you wooed that other woman! _(pa.s.ses to front of table)_

{Eric.} Kate! _(advancing)_

{Kate.} Don't touch me or I shall drop dead with shame.

_(Eric advances again.)_

Don't touch me--I can bear anything now but that!

{Eric.} You must hear me! _(moves L. C.)_

{Kate.} Hear you! What can you tell me but that the pretty music you have played in my ears has been but the dull echo of your old love-making? What can you tell me but that I am a dishonoured woman, _(Eric turns away)_ with no husband, yet not a widow --like to be a mother, and never to be a wife! _(advances a step)_

{Eric.} You will listen to me to-morrow? _(turns up a little)_

{Kate.} To-morrow! I have no to-morrow. I am living my life now. My life! my life! oh, what it might have been! _(she sinks on her knees with her head upon the floor by table. Eric bends over her)_

{Eric.} Kate, don't shrink from me! I go down in the same wreck with you. You are a hopeless woman --I stand beside you a hopeless man.

{Kate.} _(moaning)_ You never told me of the past.

Oh, the times I have looked in the gla.s.s, with the flush on my cheek that you have painted there, and called myself Eric's First Sweetheart, _(moves)_ If you had told me of the past!

{Eric.} I could not believe in its reality. She never loved me, Kate--she threw me away like an old glove or a broken feather. I believed her dead.

Ah, Kate, do you think I would have stolen one look from you if I hadn't believed myself to be a free man?

{Kate.} Oh, Eric, Eric!

{Eric.} I had news from a distance that she had died, a repentant woman. In my dreams I have seen the gra.s.s and the flowers springing up from her grave.

{Kate.} Oh, Eric, Eric!

{Eric.} _(moves to L., C., a bit)_ What dreams will haunt me this night--the grave of your life and mine? _(hand to head)_

{Kate.} Dreams that picture despair and parting.