her nature was aroused. She looked absolutely Juno-like in her wrath and reckless menace. "Eleanore," she cried, "I am going to F to marry Mr. Clavering! Now do you wish to accompany me?"
"I do."
Mary’s whole manner changed. Leaping forward, she grasped her cousin’s arm and shook it. "For what reason?" she cried. "What do you intend to do?"
"To witness the marriage, if it be a true one; to step between you and shame if any element of falsehood should come in to affect its legality."
Mary’s hand fell from her cousin’s arm. "I do not understand you," said she. "I thought you never gave countenance to what you considered wrong."
"Nor do I. Any one who knows me will understand that I do not give my approval to this marriage just because I attend its ceremonial in the capacity of an unwilling witness."
"Then why go?"
"Because I value your honor above my own peace. Because I love our common benefactor, and know that he would never pardon me if I let his darling be married, however contrary her union might be to his wishes, without lending the support of my presence to make the transaction at least a respectable one."
"But in so doing you will be involved in a world of deception—which you hate."
"Any more so than now?"
"Mr. Clavering does not return with me, Eleanore."
"No, I supposed not."
"I leave him immediately after the ceremony."
Eleanore bowed her head.
"He goes to Europe." A pause.
"And I return home."
