That was all, but it made Genevra's tears flow in torrents, and she involuntarily held her hand out to Bell, who took it, and holding it between her own, said: "You were very kind to my brother. I thank you for it, and will tell my mother, who will feel so grateful to you."
This was a good deal for Bell to say, and after it was said, she hastened away, while Marian went on her daily round of duties, speaking softer, if possible, to her patients that day, and causing them to wonder what had come over that sweet face to make it so white and tear-stained. That night in Marian's room Katy sat and listened to what she did not before know of the strange story kept from her so long. Candidly Marian confirmed all Wilford had told, breathing no word of blame against him now that he was dead, only stating facts, and leaving Katy to draw her own conclusions. Herself she censured much for fostering that fondness for admiration so irritating to a jealous man like Wilford.
"I knew that I was handsome," she said, "and I liked to test my power; but for that weakness I have been sorely punished. I had not at first any intention of making him believe that I was dead, and when I sent the paper containing the announcement of father's death I was not aware that it also contained the death of my cousin, a beautiful girl just my age, who bore our grandmother's name of Genevra, and about whom and a young English lord, who had hunted one season in her father's neighborhood, there were some scandalous reports. Afterward it occurred to me that Wilford would see that notice and naturally think it referred to me, inasmuch as he knew nothing of my Cousin Genevra, she having spent much of her time in the northern part of Scotland, and he never inquired particularly about my relatives.
"It was just as well, I said, I was dead to him, and I took a strange satisfaction in wondering if he would care. Incidentally I heard that the postmaster at Alnwick had been written to by an American gentleman, who asked if such a person as Genevra Lambert was buried at St. Mary's; and then I knew he believed me dead, even though the name appended to the letter was not Wilford Cameron, nor was the writing his, for, as the cousin of the dead Genevra. I asked to see the letter, and my request was granted. It was Mrs. Cameron who wrote it, I am sure, at the instigation, probably, of her son, signing a feigned name and bidding the postmaster answer to that address. He did so, assuring the inquirer that Genevra Lambert was buried there, and wondering to me if the young American who seemed interested in her could have been a lover of the unfortunate girl.