“He has had many sorrows!” Paula faintly exclaimed, stricken by this echo of her own doubts.
“Yes,” returned her aunt, “and sorrow bows the head and darkens the eye, but it does not make the glance wavering or its expression mysterious.”
“Some sorrows might,” urged Paula tremulously, arguing as much with her own doubts as with those of her aunt. “His have been of no ordinary nature. I have never told you, aunt, but there were circumstances attending Cousin Ona’s death that made it especially harrowing. He had a stormy interview with her the very morning she was killed; words passed between them, and he left her with a look that was almost desperate. When he next saw her, she lay lifeless and inert before him. I sometimes think that the shadow that fell upon him at that hour will never pass away.”
“Do you know what was the subject of their disagreement?” asked Miss Belinda anxiously.
“No, but I have reason to believe it had something to do with business affairs, as nothing else could ever arouse Cousin Ona into being at all disagreeable.”
“I don’t like that phrase, business affairs ; like charity, it covers entirely too much. Have you never had any doubts yourself about Mr. Sylvester?”
“Ah, you touch me to the quick, aunt. I may have had my doubts, but when I look back on the past, I cannot see as they have any very substantial foundation. Supposing, aunt, that he has been merely unfortunate, and I should live to find that I had discarded one whose heart was darkened by nothing but sorrow? I should never forgive myself, nor could life yield me any recompense that would make amends for a sacrifice so unnecessary.”