But he had deceived her
unnecessarily for weeks and months. He had lied to her. He had refused
her his whole confidence when she begged him for it, and when he knew
how he could trust her. There was some deep mystery underlying their
marriage, he could not deny it, yet he would not tell her what it was.
He had made her suffer needless pain; it was his turn. And yet, with all
her resentment against him, and all her grim savoring of the scandal
which he seemed to fear so much, there ran a golden thread of
unacknowledged contentment in the conviction that those fears were all
for her.
Outwardly she was callous to the last degree, reckless as on the day she
made this marriage, and as light-hearted as it was possible to appear;
but the excitement of the coming dinner-party was no small help to
Rachel in the maintenance of this attitude. It was to be a very large
dinner-party, and Rachel's first in her own house; in any case she must
have been upon her mettle. Two dozen had accepted. The Upthorpe party
was coming in force; if anybody knew anything, it would be Mrs.
Venables. What would she do or say? Mrs. Venables was capable of doing
or of saying anything.
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