"
Olga had begun to tremble. Her features were disturbed with an
emotion which banished every sign of sorrow; which flushed her
cheeks and made her eyes seem hostile in their fixed stare.
"How can you do that?" she asked, in a hard voice "How is it
possible?"
"It seems to me far more possible then the alternative--a life of
repentence."
"But--what do you mean, Irene? When everything is settled--when
your house is taken--when everyone knows! What do you mean? Why
shall you do this?"
The words rushed forth impetuously, quivering on a note of
resentment. The flushed cheeks were turning pallid; the girl's
breast heaved with indignant passion.
"I can't fully explain it to you, Olga." The speaker's tones sounded
very soft and reasonable after that outbreak. "I am doing what many
a girl would do, I feel sure, if she could find courage--let us
say, if she saw clearly enough. It will cause confusion,
ill-feeling, possibly some unhappiness, for a few weeks, for a month
or two; then Mr. Jacks will feel grateful to me, and my father will
acknowledge I did right; and everybody else who knows anything about
it will have found some other subject of conversation."
"You are fond of somebody else?"
It was between an exclamation and an inquiry. Bending forward, Olga
awaited the reply as if her life depended upon it.
"I am fond of no one--in that sense."
Irene's look was so fearless, her countenance so tranquil in its
candour, that the agitated girl grew quieter.
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