"I can at least do right in that respect," she said; "I can undo the
past to some extent and lessen the load of sin rolling upon my
shoulders. I will write to Arthur Leighton. I surely need tell no one
else; not yet, at least, lest he has outlived his love for Anna. I can
trust to his discretion and to his honor, too. He will not betray me
unless it is necessary, and then only to Anna. Edward would bid me do
it if he could speak. He was somewhat like Arthur Leighton."
And so, with the dead man in Strasburgh before her eyes, Mrs.
Meredith nerved herself to write to Arthur Leighton, confessing the
fraud imposed upon him, imploring his forgiveness and begging him to
spare her as much as possible.
"I know from Anna's own lips how much she has always loved you," she
wrote in conclusion; "but she does not know of the stolen letter, and
I leave you to make such use of the knowledge as you shall think
proper."
She did not put in a single plea for the poor, little Lucy, dancing
so gayly over the mine just ready to explode. She was purely selfish
still, with all her qualms of conscience, and thought only of Anna,
whom she would make happy at another's sacrifice.
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