"Do you know," said Jacqueline, after a pause, in a very confidential voice, "I sometimes wish--now this is a secret, remember--that papa and mamma would forget Beverley a little--and think--of Judith and me? They seem to expect Judith to wear black all the time, and never to smile or to laugh or to sing, as if Beverley could know. I don't believe the dead in their graves know or care anything about us."
She was on delicate ground, but, her tongue being unloosed, Throckmorton's attempt to check her was a complete failure.
"Judith, you know," she continued, cutting in on Throckmorton's awkward remonstrance, "only knew Beverley a little while. Her father and mother were dead, and papa was her guardian. She came to Barn Elms to live after she left school, and Beverley came home from the war, and they were married right away--almost as soon as they were acquainted. It was so sudden because Beverley's leave was up, and Delilah says that Beverley knew he was going to be killed soon. She says he dreamed it, or something. Do you believe in dreams?"
"No, and you mustn't believe all Delilah tells you."
"Anyhow, he went away, and he never came back. That broke papa and mamma's hearts. And you know--little Beverley--Judith's child--is like her--and not a bit like Beverley, and mamma talks sometimes as if it was a crime on the child's part. She says to everybody, 'Don't you think the child is like his father?' and nobody answers her quite truthfully, and she knows it."
Throckmorton hardly knew how to receive these family confidences, but he could not but admire the color coming and going in Jacqueline's cheeks, and the fitful light that burned in her eyes as she talked.
"And Judith--I do love Judith. It seems hard--now this is another secret--that she should never have any more pleasure in this world. And she is so bright and clever. She understands the most wonderful books. And there's something--I can't help telling you this."
"Perhaps you had better not tell me," said Throckmorton in a warning voice.
"But I can't help it, you are so--so sympathetic: I don't believe Judith cared for Beverley much."
Jacqueline drew off to see the effect of this on Throckmorton. She did not at all suspect him of any interest in Judith; but this family tragedy, that had stalked beside her nearly all her life, she thought was of immense importance, and she wanted to see how it affected Throckmorton. In fact, it only embarrassed him. He said, rather briefly: