Hence Helen had not once thought of reviving the sad story in connection with Dorothy's prospective marriage, and when the girl gave utterance to her unexpected proposition she began to think, with a terror-stricken heart throb, that she had, perhaps, been very remiss in not having frankly confided to Mr. Alexander, when he had come to ask of her Dorothy's hand in marriage, the fact of her husband's disgraceful desertion of her, and that she was a divorced wife, practically living under an assumed name.
This unforeseen predicament came upon her like a crushing blow, and, for the moment, the old rebellion and resentment, which she thought she had long ago conquered, took possession of and mastered her with even more than the old-time bitterness and force.
How could she ever face it--this relentless test of her integrity! It was an ordeal before which she shrank affrighted. Did she need to face it? Why not let everything go on without uncovering this grave of the dead past, the outcome of which might prove very disastrous to Dorothy's bright hopes, and so break her own heart?
The Alexanders were proud, high-toned people. How would they receive such a revelation?
What if the story of John Hungerford's disgraceful career should ruin Dorothy's life at this supreme moment? Suppose, in spite of their apparently increasing affection for her, this aristocratic family should absolutely refuse their consent to the alliance of their son with the daughter of a divorcee? Oh, it was passing strange that she had not thought of all this before! It had been forced upon her now, however, with a shock that deprived her of every atom of strength, for she knew the truth must be told.
"How do you feel about it, dearie?" she at length forced herself to inquire, after an interval of silence, and to gain more time to think before voicing a more definite reply.
"Mamma, it seems dreadful! I cannot bear to revive unpleasant memories for you," Dorothy began, turning a troubled face upon her. "Still, we----"
"But, Dorrie, our own past cannot be questioned--our lives have been pure and above reproach. Why, then, is it necessary to disclose that for which we are in no way responsible?" Helen questioned, after another long pause. "We have not heard a word from--from him during all these years. He may be dead--I think he must have died, or we should have heard something. At any rate, he is dead to us! Why, then, resurrect all that dreadful story?"