England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Love stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
She left us, and, taking Mr. Germaine by the arm, led him away to the
opposite side of the room. The two held a little colloquy together in
low voices. The husband closed the consultation by lifting the wife's
hand to his lips.
"Do as you please, my love," he said to her. "I leave it entirely to
you."
He sat down sorrowfully, lost in his thoughts. Mrs. Germaine unlocked
a cabinet at the further end of the room, and returned to us, alone,
carrying a small portfolio in her hand.
"No words of mine can tell you how gratefully I feel your kindness,"
she said, with perfect simplicity, and with perfect dignity at the same
time. "Under very trying circumstances, you have treated me with the
tenderness and the sympathy which you might have shown to an old friend.
The one return I can make for all that I owe to you is to admit you to
my fullest confidence, and to leave you to judge for yourselves whether
I deserve the treatment which I have received to-night."
Her eyes filled with tears. She paused to control herself. We both
begged her to say no more. Her husband, joining us, added his entreaties
to ours. She thanked us, but she persisted. Like most sensitively
organized persons, she could be resolute when she believed that the
occasion called for it.
"I have a few words more to say," she resumed, addressing my wife. "You
are the only married woman who has come to our little dinner party. The
marked absence of the other wives explains itself. It is not for me to
say whether they are right or wrong in refusing to sit at our table.
My dear husband--who knows my whole life as well as I know it
myself--expressed the wish that we should invite these ladies. He
wrongly supposed that _his_ estimate of me would be the estimate
accepted by his friends; and neither he nor I anticipated that the
misfortunes of my past life would be revealed by some person acquainted
with them, whose treachery we have yet to discover. The least I can
do, by way of acknowledging your kindness, is to place you in the same
position toward me which the other ladies now occupy. The circumstances
under which I have become the wife of Mr. Germaine are, in some
respects, very remarkable. They are related, without suppression or
reserve, in a little narrative which my husband wrote, at the time of
our marriage, for the satisfaction of one of his absent relatives, whose
good opinion he was unwilling to forfeit. The manuscript is in this
portfolio. After what has happened, I ask you both to read it, as
a personal favor to me. It is for you to decide, when you know all,
whether I am a fit person for an honest woman to associate with or not."
She held out her hand, with a sweet, sad smile, and bid us good night.
My wife, in her impulsive way, forgot the formalities proper to the
occasion, and kissed her at parting. At that one little act of sisterly
sympathy, the fortitude which the poor creature had preserved all
through the evening gave way in an instant. She burst into tears.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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