I had my
leave of General Morgan on the score of our need for better information
of Lord Cornwallis's designs; but I should have come in any
case--wanting the leave, my commission as a spy, or any other excuse."
"To tell me this?"
"To do the bidding of your letter, and to say that whilst I live I shall
be shamed for the bitter words I gave you when I was sick."
"I mind them not; I had forgotten them," she said.
"But I have not forgotten, nor ever shall. Will you say you forgive me,
Margery?"
"For thinking I had poisoned you? How do you know I did not?"
"I have seen Scipio. Will you shrive me for that disloyalty, dear lady?"
"Did I not say I had forgotten it?"
"Thank you," I said, meaning it from the bottom of my heart. "Now one
thing more, and you shall send me to Father Matthieu. 'Tis a shameful
thing to speak of, but the thought of it rankles and will rankle till I
have begged you to add it to the things forgotten. That morning in your
dressing-room--"
She put up her hands as if she would push the words back.
"Spare me, sir," she begged. "There are some things that must always be
unspeakable between us, and that is one of them. But if it will help you
to know--that I know--how--how you came there--"
She was flushing most painfully, and I was scarce more at ease. But
having gone thus far, I must needs let the thought consequent slip into
words.
"Your father's motives have ever been misunderstandable to me. What
could he hope to gain by such a thing?"
I had no sooner said it than I could have bitten my masterless tongue.
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