I will say nothing of
the duel; but beyond that you have no right to demand my secrecy with
her. Yes; you had better go, Mr. Finn, for I am hardly well. And
remember this,--If you can forget this little episode about Miss
Effingham, so will I forget it also; and so will Oswald. I can
promise for him." Then she smiled and gave him her hand, and he went.
She rose from her chair as he left the room, and waited till she
heard the sound of the great door closing behind him before she again
sat down. Then, when he was gone,--when she was sure that he was no
longer there with her in the same house,--she laid her head down upon
the arm of the sofa, and burst into a flood of tears. She was no
longer angry with Phineas. There was no further longing in her heart
for revenge. She did not now desire to injure him, though she had
done so as long as he was with her. Nay,--she resolved instantly,
almost instinctively, that Lord Brentford must know nothing of all
this, lest the political prospects of the young member for Loughton
should be injured. To have rebuked him, to rebuke him again and
again, would be only fair,--would at least be womanly; but she
would protect him from all material injury as far as her power of
protection might avail. And why was she weeping now so bitterly?
Of course she asked herself, as she rubbed away the tears with her
hands,--Why should she weep? She was not weak enough to tell herself
that she was weeping for any injury that had been done to Oswald.
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