“Send for Sir John! I am mortally afraid of this creature. Take her away; do something to her. My poor Bella, what a companion for you! Send for Sir John at once!” cried Mrs. Coventry incoherently, and clasped her daughter in her arms, as if Jean Muir would burst in to annihilate the whole family. Edward alone was calm. “I have already sent, and while we wait, let me finish this story. It is true that Jean is the daughter of Lady Howard’s husband, the pretended clergyman, but really a worthless man who married her for her money. Her own child died, but this girl, having beauty, wit and a bold spirit, took her fate into her own hands, and became an actress. She married an actor, led a reckless life for some years; quarreled with her husband, was divorced, and went to Paris; left the stage, and tried to support herself as governess and companion. You know how she fared with the Sydneys, how she has duped us, and but for this discovery would have duped Sir John. I was in time to prevent this, thank heaven. She is gone; no one knows the truth but Sydney and ourselves; he will be silent, for his own sake; we will be for ours, and leave this dangerous woman to the fate which will surely overtake her.” “Thank you, it has overtaken her, and a very happy one she finds it.” A soft voice uttered the words, and an apparition appeared at the door, which made all start and recoil with amazement--Jean Muir leaning on the arm of Sir John. “How dare you return?” began Edward, losing the self-control so long preserved. “How dare you insult us by coming back to enjoy the mischief you have done? Uncle, you do not know that woman!” “Hush, boy, I will not listen to a word, unless you remember where you are,” said Sir John with a commanding gesture. “Remember your promise: love me, forgive me, protect me, and do not listen to their accusations,” whispered Jean, whose quick eye had discovered the letters. “I will; have no fears, my child,” he answered, drawing her nearer as he took his accustomed place before the fire, always lighted when Mrs. Coventry was down. Gerald, who had been pacing the room excitedly, paused behind Lucia’s chair as if to shield her from insult; Bella clung to her mother; and Edward, calming himself by a strong effort, handed his uncle the letters, saying briefly, “Look at those, sir, and let them speak.” “I will look at nothing, hear nothing, believe nothing which can in any way lessen my respect and affection for this young lady. She has prepared me for this. I know the enemy who is unmanly enough to belie and threaten her. I know that you both are unsuccessful lovers, and this explains your unjust, uncourteous treatment now. We all have committed faults and follies. I freely forgive Jean hers, and desire to know nothing of them from your lips. If she has innocently offended, pardon it for my sake, and forget the past.”