Miss Benson accompanied Mrs. Bradshaw to the door; and in the
passage gave her a long explanation of Ruth's (fictitious)
history. Mrs. Bradshaw looked so much interested and pleased,
that Miss Benson enlarged a little more than was necessary, and
rounded off her invention with one or two imaginary details,
which, she was quite unconscious, were overheard by her brother
through the half-open study door.
She was rather dismayed when he called her into his room after
Mrs. Bradshaw's departure, and asked her what she had been saying
about Ruth?
"Oh! I thought it was better to explain it thoroughly--I mean, to
tell the story we wished to have believed once for all--you know
we agreed about that, Thurstan?" deprecatingly.
"Yes; but I heard you saying you believed her husband had been a
young surgeon, did I not?"
"Well, Thurstan, you know he must have been something; and young
surgeons are so in the way of dying, it seemed very natural.
Besides," said she with sudden boldness, "I do think I've a
talent for fiction, it is so pleasant to invent, and make the
incidents dovetail together; and after all, if we are to tell a
lie, we may as well do it thoroughly, or else it's of no use. A
bungling lie would be worse than useless. And, Thurstan--it may
be very wrong--but I believe--I am afraid I enjoy not being
fettered by truth. Don't look so grave. You know it is necessary,
if ever it was, to tell falsehoods now; and don't be angry with
me because I do it well.
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