on my knees to you to beg you to say nothing to any one about this matter."
"Do you suppose it is a subject I am likely to discuss—to Mrs. Cribbage, for instance? That I will talk freely of an affair which compromises the honour of my father?"
"There is scarce any one knows about it."
"Except my father, yourself, and your son."
"And the captain; but, miss, I beg you to bear witness that I named no names."
"I want to know no more, none of the details," said Arminell, "I only trust they may all be rolled up and cast away into oblivion."
She returned to the Park, went into the music-room and began to practise on the piano. She was able to do the mechanical work and think at the same time. She believed the story she had been told, not so much because Marianne Saltren had related it, as because Jingles so confidently believed it. He would never have spoken to her on the matter had he harboured the slightest shadow of doubt.
But the story was one on which her mind must busy itself. She began unconsciously to play Agatha's song "Leise, leise," from "Der Freischütz," and as she played, two tears rolled down her cheeks.
She had always regarded her father with respect as a man of principle and strict notions of honour, though she did not consider him as a man of ability. Now he appeared to her in a light that showed him guilty of conduct unworthy of a gentleman, inexpressibly base and cowardly. His behaviour towards her own mother had been bad, for Arminell was satisfied that her mother would never have married Lord Lamerton had she been allowed to suspect that his character was stained with such an ugly blur.
"I am glad she died," said the girl with a sob, and then with a start she asked, "How was it that that woman was in the house with my mother? How could she bear it?
