"Mr. Grubb, how dare you offer me this insult?" "Do not meet me in this way, Adela. I am asking you a solemn question; remember that there is One above Who will hear and register your answer. Were you the principal in this transaction, and was Cleveland but your agent? Do not fear to trust me--_your husband_: you shall have my free forgiveness, now, beforehand, my shelter, my protection. Only tell me the truth, as you wish it to be well with us both in after-life." Again she cowered before his gaze, and again recovered herself. Could it be that her better angel was prompting her to the truthful path? "What can possibly have induced you to put such a question to me?" "It is an idea that has forced itself upon my mind. Without some such explanation the affair is to me an utter mystery. If Charles Cleveland----" "And don't you think you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" she interrupted. "I rob a bank! I steal a cheque! Has it come to this--that you suspect _me?_" "Forgive me, Adela, if I am wrong. Be it how it may, you should meet me differently. Oh, my wife, let there be perfect confidence between us at this moment, on this subject. Tell me the truth, as before Heaven!" "Am I in the habit of telling you untruths? I thought the truths I tell you were generally a little too plain to be pleasant," she added, in her bravado. "None but a mean-spirited man could so suspect his wife." "This is all you have to say to me, Adela--your definite answer?" "Definite enough," she retorted, with a nervous sob, between a laugh and a cry; for, what with fear and discomfort, she was becoming slightly hysterical. "I am bound to believe you, Adela," he said, the tears in her eyes disarming his latent doubts. "I do believe you. But----" "And now that you have had your say, listen to me," she interrupted, choking down all better feelings and speaking with contemptuous anger. "Never speak on the subject to me again if you would keep up the semblance of peace between us. My spirit is being dangerously aroused against you, Mr. Grubb; not only for this injustice to me, but for your barbarous treatment of poor Charles Cleveland." Once more, he knew not why or wherefore, something like a doubt returned to Mr. Grubb's mind. He held her before him. "It has been the truth, Adela?--as I hope, and pray, and trust! I ask it you once again--that it may be well with us in after-life." "Would I trouble myself to tell a falsehood about it to _you!_ Do you think I have no feeling--that I should bear such distrust? And if you would recompense me for this mauvais quart d'heure, you will release that poor fellow tomorrow--for his father's sake." She flung her husband's arm away and quitted the room, leaving him to _his_ feelings. Few can imagine them--torn, outraged, thrown back upon his generous heart. But she had certainly managed to dispel his doubts of herself. No guilty woman, as he believed, could have faced it out as she did.