'Suspicions! Pah!' said she indignantly. 'Certainties.'

'Your certainties, my lady, as you call them, your suspicions as I
call them, are cruel, unjust, wholly devoid of foundation in fact.
I can declare no more; except that I have not acted for my own
profit or my own pleasure. I have not in this proceeding
considered myself. Once again, I think my heart is broken. If I
have unwittingly done any wrong with a righteous motive, that is
some penalty to pay.'

She received this with another and more indignant 'Pah!' and I made
my way out of her room (I think I felt my way out with my hands,
although my eyes were open), almost suspecting that my voice had a
repulsive sound, and that I was a repulsive object.

There was a great stir made, the bishop was appealed to, I received
a severe reprimand, and narrowly escaped suspension. For years a
cloud hung over me, and my name was tarnished.

But my heart did not break, if a broken heart involves death; for I
lived through it.

They stood by me, Adelina and her husband, through it all. Those
who had known me at college, and even most of those who had only
known me there by reputation, stood by me too. Little by little,
the belief widened that I was not capable of what was laid to my
charge. At length I was presented to a college-living in a
sequestered place, and there I now pen my explanation. I pen it at
my open window in the summer-time, before me, lying in the
churchyard, equal resting-place for sound hearts, wounded hearts,