"I had reason to suppose that my pretended father was my
friend; one thing is certain no millionaire ever guarded a
fair daughter with more tenderness than he has guarded me. He
has sent me to school, and has permitted me to become educated
far above my station. You know in this land that is an easy
thing for a poor man to do, but within a few days strange
suspicions have crossed my mind; no man even among the
roughest of them ever dared insult me. Tom Pearce would have
killed the man who dared bring one faint flush to my cheek
with his vile tongue! but alas! I fear--fear."

"What do you fear?"

"Shall I say it?"

"Certainly."

"I fear his tender care of me has been a speculation."

"You do not believe he is your friend?"

"I fear he is not."

"Some enemy may have traduced Tom Pearce."

"No; the words that aroused my suspicions fell frown his own
lips."

"And what do you fear?"