I ask you to marry me."
There was a pause. Beatrice, who had sat quite silent, was gathering up
her strength to answer. Elizabeth, watching her from beneath her
hand, thought that she read upon her face irresolution, softening into
consent. What she really saw was but doubt as to the fittest and most
certain manner of refusal. Like lightning it flashed into Elizabeth's
mind that she must strike now, or hold her hand for ever. If once
Beatrice spoke that fatal "yes," her revelations might be of no avail.
And Beatrice would speak it; she was sure she would. It was a golden
road out of her troubles.
"Stop!" said Elizabeth in a shrill, hard voice. "Stop! I must speak;
it is my duty as a Christian. I must tell the truth. I cannot allow an
honest man to be deceived."
There was an awful pause. Beatrice broke it. Now she saw all the truth,
and knew what was at hand. She placed her hand upon her heart to still
its beating.
"Oh, Elizabeth," she said, "in our dead mother's name----" and she
stopped.
"Yes," answered her sister, "in our dead mother's name, which you have
dishonoured, I will do it.
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