'I say, Leonora,' he said in a confidential tone.

'Yes, my dear,' she responded, complying generously with his appeal for
sympathy. She continued to play for a moment, but even more softly; and
then, as he kept silence, she revolved on the piano-stool and looked
into his face.

'What is it?' she asked in a caressing voice, intensifying her
femininity, forgiving him, excusing him, thinking and making him think
what a good fellow he was, despite certain superficial faults.

'You knew nothing of this Ryley business, did you?' he murmured.

'Oh, no. Are you sure there's anything in it? I don't think there is for
an instant.' And she did not. Even the placing of Milly's hand on Fred
Ryley's shoulder in full sight of the street, even this she regarded
only as the pretty indiscretion of a child. 'Oh! there's nothing in it,'
she repeated.

'Well, there's _got_ to be nothing in it. You must keep an eye on 'em. I
won't have it.'

She leaned forward, and, resting her elbows on her knees, put her chin
in her long hands. Her bangles disappeared amid lace.

'What's the matter with Fred?' said she. 'He's a relation; and you've
said before now that he's a good clerk,'

'He's a decent enough clerk. But he's not for our girls.'