"Oh yes you will," she replied cheerfully. "Time is a wonderful consoler--besides, Doctor Nestley, I could never have married you, for though you did not know then you know now--I am going to marry Mr. Blake."
"And what difference will that make to you?" he asked mockingly, lifting his dull eyes to her earnest face.
"I do not understand you," she said coldly, drawing back.
"Then I can easily explain," replied the young man quickly, "the only difference will be this--you love him, you do not love me--for the rest both Reginald Blake--or shall I call him Garsworth?--and myself will be equal in all else."
"You are talking wildly," said Una in an icy tone, "so I shall leave you--permit me to pass if you please?"
"Not till I have had my say," he retorted, his eyes growing bright. "I can wring your proud heart now as you wrung mine then. I saw your look of horror when you looked at me and saw how low I had fallen through drink--in the same way you will look upon your lover when he returns from the guardianship of Basil Beaumont."
Una gave a cry of alarm and reeled against the stone parapet of the bridge for support, while a cold hand seemed to clutch at her heart.
"You have heard of those devils of old who tempted mankind," went on Nestley rapidly. "Yes, you have heard such stories and thought them pious fictions of Catholicism--but it is true, quite true. There are devils of like sort in our midst even now, and Basil Beaumont is one. I knew him in London five years ago when I was a young man just starting in life. I had no vices, I had great talents, I was devoted to my profession and all seemed to promise a fair life. But Beaumont came, devil that he is, in the guise of an angel of light, and ruined me. He beguiled me with his wheedling tongue and specious manners into believing in him. Having gained my confidence he led me to gamble and drink until I sank so low that even he forsook me--yes, forsook the man he had ruined. It was when his fatal influence was withdrawn that I began to recover. I took the pledge, left London and its fascinations and plunged into hard work. For five years I never touched alcohol and things seemed going well with me once more--but I came down here and met him again. I resisted his persuasions for a long time, but on the night you rejected me I was worn out with watching by the bedside of the Squire, and sick with disappointment; he persuaded me to take a glass of wine--it was followed by another--and then--I need not go on, but next morning I found I had lost my self-respect. I gave way to despair, there seemed no hope for me, and now see what I am, and all through Basil Beaumont--I have lost my good name--my money--my position--everything--everything in the world."