From time to time Leonard came to the door of the carriage and asked if he could do anything for her. She gently declined his offers of refreshment, and said she needed nothing. He did not press his attentions upon her, and she gave him credit for a kindness of heart to which he had no claim.
It was ten o'clock at night when they reached the town to which Leonard was conveying her. The carriage drew up at the door of at hotel of some pretension, and there Leonard had no difficulty in obtaining accommodation for Emilia. He told her he did not intend to pass the night at the hotel, and she was grateful to him.
"To-morrow I shall return," he said. "Shall I say good-by to you now or then?"
"Very well. Good-by." He hesitated a moment, and then offered her his hand.
She hesitated, also, before she accepted it. From him she had received information of the blow which had dishonored her; could she touch his hand in friendship? No, not in friendship, but why should she be sullen and churlish? He had done her no direct wrong, he had even shown her consideration and kindness. To refuse his hand would be a bad commencement of the new life. She held out hers, and he took it in his cool palm.
"You are still resolved not to accept my offer?" he asked.
"I will not endeavor to prevail upon you, for I see your mind is made up."
He gazed at her in surprise. There was a firmness in her, voice, a new note he had not heard before.
"Is it your intention," he asked, "to come back to England?"
"I shall never set foot in England again," she said.
"Neither from that determination can anything turn me."
"It is a wise resolve. I promise to keep your secret." She turned from him, saying in a low tone, "I shall be grateful if you never speak of me."
"I promise not to do so. And you on your part should never mention my name or my dear brother's."
"I will never do so. He is dead to me. You will be, when you pass out of this room."
"I should tell you," he said, lingering still a moment, "that I have entered your name in the hotel book as Emilia Braham."
"I should have done so myself. It is the name I shall bear for the future."
As briefly as possible must now be sketched the story of Emilia's life during the next eighteen years. To her resolution not to return to England she remained firm during that period. Two days after Leonard left her she quitted the town to which he had brought her, and twelve months afterward she found herself settled in Geneva. It was her good fortune to meet an elderly lady who required a companion. The name of this lady was Madame Lambert, and she was attracted by the gentleness of Emilia's manner. These two ladies happened to be staying at the same hotel for a few days, and Emilia was enabled to render Madame Lambert some slight service. Like Emilia, the elder lady was travelling alone, and one evening Madame Lambert was seized with a sudden faintness at the _table d'hôte_. Emilia, who was sitting next to her, assisted her to her room, and remained with her during the night, sharing her bed by invitation. In her situation Emilia was compelled to register her name as Mrs. Braham, and Madame Lambert, questioning her, was told by Emilia that she was a widow. Emilia did not attempt to justify herself to her conscience; she knew that the duplicity was necessary for the credit of her unborn child.