Nobody would believe she was my ward,
and nothing more, and I became a sort of monomaniac upon the
subject. Had I never loved her--" he paused, and leaned his head
upon his hands, while Edith, bending upon him a most searching
look, startled him with the words, "Mr. St. Claire, you have not
told me all. There is something behind, something mightier than
pride or a dread of gossip."
"Yes, Edith, there is something behind, but I can't tell YOU what
it is, you of all others."
He was pacing the floor hurriedly now, but stopped suddenly, and
standing before Edith, said: "Edith Hastings, you are somewhat to
blame in this matter. Before I knew you I only shrank from having
people talk of my matters sooner than was absolutely necessary.
But after you became my pupil, the desire that you should never
see Nina as she is, grew into a species of madness, and I have
bent every energy to keeping you apart. I did not listen to
reason, which told me you must know of it sooner or later, but
plunged deeper and deeper into a labyrinth of attempted
concealment.
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