my sisters: that I have acted as no woman can act, without degrading herself and her sex: that I have sought where the incorrupt of my kind naturally scorn and abhor to seek.' She and I were silent, for many a minute. 'Lucifer—Star of the Morning!' she went on, 'thou art fallen. You—once high in my esteem—are hurled down: you—once intimate in my friendship—are cast out. Go!'
"I went not: I had heard her voice tremble—seen her lip quiver: I knew another storm of tears would fall; and then, I believed, some calm and some sunshine must come, and I would wait for it.
"As fast, but more quietly than before, the warm rain streamed down: there was another sound in her weeping—a softer, more regretful sound. While I watched, her eyes lifted to me a gaze more reproachful than haughty—more mournful than incensed.
"'Oh, Moore!' said she: 'it was worse than Et tu, Brute!'
"I relieved myself by what should have been a sigh, but it became a groan. A sense of Cain-like desolation made my breast ache.
"'There has been error in what I have done,' I said, 'and it has won me bitter wages; which I will go and spend far from her who gave them.'
"I took my hat. All the time, I could not have borne to depart so; and I believed she would not let me. Nor would she, but for the mortal pang I had given her pride, that cowed her compassion and kept her silent.
"I was obliged to turn back of my own accord
