And Emma and Electra softly retired, with the belief that Mary Grey only wished to consult the minister on religious subjects.
As soon as the door was closed behind them Mary Grey seized the old man's hand and, fixing her great black eyes fiercely upon him, demanded:
"Did you drop no word during my swoon that might have led them to suspect?"
"I thank you then!" she exclaimed, with a long sigh of relief.
"But, my child, was that all you wished to talk to me about?"
"That was all, except this: to beg you still to be silent as the grave in regard to my identity."
"My child, your words disappoint and grieve me. I did hope that you asked this private interview with the design to consult me about the propriety of making yourself known."
"Making myself known!" she exclaimed, with a half-suppressed shriek, as she started up upon her elbow and stared at the speaker. "Making myself known!"
"The opportunity, my dear child, is such an excellent one. And, of course, you know that if Mrs. Fanning comes here--as she must; for there is no other refuge open to her--if she comes and finds you here, discovery is inevitable."
"But she will not find me here! She shall not! I could not look her in the face. Sooner than do that, I will hurl myself from the turnpike bridge into the Mad River!" she fiercely exclaimed.
"My child, do not talk so wickedly. It is frightful to hear such things!" cried the old man, shuddering.
"You will _see_ such things, if you do not mind. I am quite capable of doing what I said, for I am tired and sick of this life of constant dependence, mortification and terror--an insupportable life!" she wildly exclaimed.
"Because, my poor girl, it is a life of concealment, in constant dread of discovery and the humiliation attending discovery. Change all that and your life will be happier. Trust in those who are nearest to you, and make yourself, your name, your errors, and your sufferings and repentance fully known. Emma Cavendish is the ruling power in this house, and she is a pure, noble, magnanimous spirit. She would protect you," pleaded the old man, taking her hand.
"Oh, yes, she is all that! Do you think that makes it any easier for me to shock her with the story of my own folly, weakness and cowardice? Oh, no, no! I could not bear the look of her clear, truthful blue eyes! And I would not! There; it is useless to talk to me, Doctor Jones! There are some things that I can not do. I can not stay here!"