"I know," said Sara. "I know you were not there. They made a mistake. It was I they saw--not you--it was I."
Brigit dropped her eyes but made no other movement. She seemed to grow rigid, and the hand which had been playing with the fringe of her girdle remained fixed in its arrested action.
"I had to see him. So I went to him. Now he can easily deny that you were there. But he won't betray me. People must think what they please. But I am telling you--because you, at least, ought to know the truth."
"How can it be my business to ask what lady went to--to his lodgings?"
"Yes, I should have wondered. I could not have helped that."
"Mr. Orange and I have been friends, as you know, for some time. He knew me years ago before he--he met you. I was quite a little girl. I remember I used to hold his hand when I walked in the gardens by his side."
"But all this does not help us now. If it were ever known that I--I was the one, the other day,--I should be ruined."
"You may be sure that no one shall know."
"I am not so selfish as I seem. I don't forget that this story will injure him--injure him terribly. They will think him a kind of Joseph Surface--a hypocrite. People expect him to be different from everybody else. A piece of gossip which they would have laughed at and taken as a matter of course from poor Beauclerk or Charles Aumerle--they would resent bitterly in Robert. The thing that grieves me, that torments me, is the fear lest this act of mine may injure him."
"It won't injure him," said Brigit. "Have no fear at all. And if you went to see him, as you say, you must have had the best of reasons for doing so. You may rely, I am sure, on his keeping your name a secret. You were kind to tell me--for he certainly would not have told me--without your consent. We never see each other now, and we never write to each other."
"How does he look?" she asked, after a sharp struggle between her pride and a desire to hear more.
"He will suffer at Lord Reckage's death."
"But he hides his feelings. He is always reticent."
"O, to see him and talk with him--that would be such a joy for me."
"You must be very sad, often," said Sara, coldly.
"Yes, often," answered Brigit. "And I was so happy during the short time we were together that now it seems no part of my life--no part of it. I say this because I wish you to know that nothing can make us love each other less--that all this misery and separation--which may last as long as we live--has made no difference and can make no difference to us. And if I never see him again, or speak to him again, he will always be certain that I am his--unalterably, for ever his."