ANOTHER OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 156

upon my word,” she said, “ you will make me think
that I had cause. Mrs. Moorwood told me of your
agitation when you saw her first. You know not,
Edward,” she said, “the anguish I have felt; I
fancied that you were cold to me ; I fancied that your
heart seemed turned from me—there is something so
entire, so true in a woman’s love, Edward, and I
was jealous of that fair Angela, who seemed to have
deprived me of yours in return. Now I have been
candid with you. I have told you my weakness ; let
there never be suspicion between us, and, as a proof
that your love is not diminished, tell me, was Made~
moiselle Angela known to you before ?”

Without replying, he looked into his wife’s face.
His first impulse was to deny altogether the truth of
her suspicion—was to deny any knowledge of the
actress. .

“ Edward,” continued she, solemnly, “answer me
truly—love and falsehood cannot exist in the same
bosom. The happiness of our whole life may depend
on this moment—do not deceive me! You have
loved Mademoiselle Angela! ”

Again he felt that singular resemblance between
his wife and Angela—that spirit of truth which had
made him submissive before the spirit of a girl
in former years. He felt that, sustained by this
spirit, he dared to speak the truth, even to his own
condemnation.

“Yes,” he said, “ you are right ; I have loved her
—and, perhaps, love her still; but oh! Emmeline,
since we have thus spoken, you need not fear her.
Truth is, indeed, a broad shield against sin. You
need not fear her. I love her less dangerously, and
you more truly. But you shall hear all.” He then