‘Because—because——Well, my dear, the truth is, I believe, a favourite maid of hers begged her to do so, and interceded successfully with her. You see, I—I——’ ‘You had made love to the girl, I suppose?’ put in Mrs. Belassis scornfully. ‘Just like one of your low ways.’ ‘I had not seen you, you know, my dear; and the girl was good-looking, and would keep walking by the river in an evening, just where I was fishing. Of course I paid her a few compliments on her pretty face, and talked a little nonsense, as other young men do in similar circumstances. You needn’t mind that, Celia, my love! I never looked at another woman after I knew you!’ Mrs. Belassis sneered. ‘Do you suppose I am jealous of attentions you paid to a lady’s-maid thirty or forty years ago? Was it fear of my displeasure that so alarmed you? or have you worse to tell?’ ‘Worse? Oh no!—no—no! That is all; the matter began and ended there. You know all I know now. You see, my dear, one does not care to have one’s youthful sins and follies brought to light after all these years. I dare say it seems foolish to you; but I am fond of you, and I didn’t care that a story like that—exaggerated and made worse, no doubt, by gossiping tongues—should come to your ears. I shall not mind, now that I have told you all; but, I confess, I was taken aback when Philip first spoke of Whitbury, and people I had known there. I did not know what ill-natured report he might not set afloat. Put yourself in my position a moment, my dear, and I think you will understand.’ ‘Well, well,’ answered Mrs. Belassis impatiently, ‘it is a pity, as you are such a poor cowardly creature, that you ever had courage to put yourself in such awkward positions as you have been doing of late. You can do a most daring and unscrupulous thing in the calmest way, so long as detection seems impossible; but as soon as ever the inevitable crisis threatens, you are as helpless and blundering as a child.’ Belassis assented to this criticism meekly enough, and took a good scolding from his wife with unusual docility. He was so unutterably relieved at the credence his story had obtained, that nothing else disturbed him much. Mrs. Belassis had certainly accepted his explanation with all readiness. His nature was so craven in her eyes that his fear was easily accounted for; and even she was far from suspecting him of the terrible and irretrievable folly of which he had really been guilty. That he would marry a second wife without knowing that the first was dead, was a thought that never crossed her mind for a moment. She never even suspected that he had ever been married, until his union with herself. Days glided quietly by, and the traveller returned from his brief visit to Germany. He did not bring his friend back with him, as had been half expected in some quarters; but he announced that Mr. Torwood had started on a four months’ sea-voyage, and was confidently expected to return from it with much recruited health.