I had seen her, but she had not seen me, in the dark hall which I must now traverse as a prisoner and a suspect.
No intimation of my dubious position or its inevitable consequences had reached her yet.

When it did, what would she do?
I did not know her well enough to tell.

The attraction she had felt for me had not been strong enough to lead her to accommodate herself to my wishes and marry me off-hand, but it had been strong enough to nerve her arm in whatever altercation she may have had with her jealous-minded sister.

It was the temper and not the strength of the love which would tell in a strait like this.

Would it prove of a generous kind?
Should I have to combat her desire to take upon herself the full blame of her deed, with all its shames and penalties?
Or should I have the still deeper misery of finding her callous to my position and welcoming any chance which diverted suspicion from herself?
Either supposition might be possible, according to my judgment in this evil hour.