Indian Summer

"No, no! my dear!" said Mrs. Sutton, earnestly. "I am shocked and
astonished that you should ever have labored under such a delusion.
Frederic told me the story, and a dreadful one it was, the day old
Mrs. Tazewell was buried. Wasn't it wonderful that he never knew
whom Winston had married until he saw her leaning upon his arm in
the graveyard?

He recognized Mr. Dorrance in the house, but supposed
him to be a visitor at Ridgeley and a relative of Mrs. Aylett,
having heard that her maiden name was Dorrance. As to his being your
husband, it did not at first occur to him, so bewildered was he by
your meeting and the thoughts awakened by it. But at sight of HER
the truth rushed over him, nearly depriving him of his wits. He soon
got out of me all that I knew, and by putting this and that
together, we made out the mystery. I was so grieved and indignant
and horrified that I was for sending him forthwith to Winston, that
he might clear himself of the shocking charges they had preferred
against him, by exposing the motives of his accusers.

But he was stubborn and independent. 'It can do no good now,' he said. 'Fifteen
years ago this discovery would have been my temporal salvation. And
Dorrance is Mabel's husband. I cannot touch him without wounding
her.' I could not reconcile this mode of reasoning with my
conscience. If wrong had been done, it ought to be righted. I did
not sleep a wink all night. I wept over my noble, generous,
slandered boy, and over you, my darling! but my chief thought was
anger at the shameless depravity, the cold-blooded cruelty of the
brazen-faced adventuress who sat in your angel mother's place. For
aught Frederic or I knew, her real husband was still alive. He had
never heard of the divorce, you see, and the circumstance of her
marrying Winston under her maiden name looked black.