"I know myself--I know what I can do and
what I can not do. I could take my wife in my arms, and kiss her
face--I could not live with her. I shall forgive her, mother,
when all that is human is dying away from me. I shall forgive
her in the hour of death."
Chapter XXXVIII
Lillian Earle was no tragedy queen. She never talked about
sacrifice or dying, but there was in her calm, gentle nature a
depth of endurance rarely equaled. She had never owned, even to
herself, how dearly she loved Lionel Dacre--how completely every
thought and hope was centered in him. Since she had first
learned to care for him, she had never looked her life in the
face and imagined what it would be without him.
It never entered her mind to save herself at the expense of her
sister; the secret had been intrusted to her, and she could not
conceive the idea of disclosing it. If the choice had been
offered her between death and betraying Beatrice, she would have
chosen death, with a simple consciousness that she was but doing
her duty.
So, when Lionel uttered those terrible words--when she found
that he had seen her--she never dreamed of freeing herself from
blame, and telling the story of her sister's fault.
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