"
Then she told him who Mildred Margrave was; how years before, when the
girl's mother was very ill and it was thought she would die, the Margraves
had taken the child and promised that she should be as their own and a
companion to their own child; that their own child had died, and Mildred
still remained with them. All this she knew from one who was aware of the
circumstances. Then she went on to tell him who Mildred's mother and
father were, what were Telford's relations to John Gladney and of his
search for Gladney's wife.
"Now," she said, "you understand all. They must meet."
"He does not know who she is?"
"He does not. He only knows as yet that she is the daughter of Mrs.
Gladney, who, he thinks, is a stranger to him."
"You know his nature. What will he do?"
"I cannot tell. What can he do? Nothing, nothing!"
"You are sorry for him? You"--
"Do not speak of that," she said in a choking whisper. "God gave women
pity to keep men from becoming demons. You can pity the executioner when,
killing you, he must kill himself next."
"I do not understand you quite, but all you say is wise."
"Do not try to understand it or me. I am not worth it."
"You are worth, God knows, a better, happier fate."
The words came from him unexpectedly, impulsively.
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