“Oh, the curse of gold!” the unhappy woman went on, wildly. “What will it not tempt one to do? The love of it blunts natural affection and honor, and warps the reason. It leads one to deceive, to scheme, and to sin for the possession of it. What blind fools men and women are to sacrifice so much—love, a lifetime of innocence, purity, and happiness, for the sake of a little paltry yellow dust! If I could but live over my life, how gladly would I endure poverty, and toil, and self-denial, to secure a quiet conscience and a heart free from its burden of sin and dread! Oh, such a life as I have led is but a miserable failure from beginning to end!” Colonel Mapleson began to be alarmed at his wife’s increasing excitement, while her remorse and her ominous allusions drove him almost distracted. He arose, and, going to her side, took her trembling hands in his, saying: “Estelle, if you cannot calm yourself, I shall insist upon your going to your room; you will surely be ill if you yield so to nervous excitement. Whatever this matter is that seems to weigh so heavily upon your mind, I can wait until you are in a better state for its recital. Come, let me take you up stairs,” and he gently tried to force her to rise. But she wrenched her hands from his clasp. “No, no,” she cried, with a shiver; “I will not carry this dreadful burden on my heart another hour! For more than twenty years I have borne the brand of an inhuman monster on my soul, and I wonder that it has not transformed me into something so repulsive and loathsome that every one would shrink from me in fear and disgust. I have often looked at myself with amazement to think it was possible for any one to conceal so effectually the corruption and wretchedness and duplicity of one’s nature. I believe I have realized, as no one else ever did, what the Saviour meant by a ‘whited sepulcher full of dead men’s bones.’ William!” turning upon her husband, with a wild, glittering eye, and searching his face with a glance of pitiful appeal, “I expect that you will despise and hate me, that our son will loathe me, when you learn what I have to tell you.” The scene was becoming very painful, and Mr. Huntress, pitying her from the depths of his heart, arose and walked out of her sight, feeling that he could not look upon her agony, while Geoffrey sat spell-bound, dreading the impending disclosure more than he could express. Colonel Mapleson, feeling as if he must do something to calm her excitement, went to a closet, poured out a glass of wine, and brought it to her. “Estelle, drink this,” he said, kindly, as he put it to her lips, though his hand shook so that he could not hold the glass steadily. She hastily swallowed it, and then pushed him from her; it seemed as if she could not bear him near her while her sin was unconfessed—until he should hear and judge her, and she could know what her doom was to be.