aware of the silent, all but crouching spectator behind her. Mostyn
heard something like a sigh escape her lips. Then a furious impulse to
denounce her, to let her know that he now knew her as she was, flashed
through him. He rose and went to her. He expected her to start and
shrink from him as he approached, but she simply looked at him in mild
surprise.


"Have you just got home?" she inquired. "Mother and I were worried
about you, but George and Uncle John said you were all right."

He stared straight at her. She would have noted the sinister glare in
his eyes but for the half darkness.

"I was lost for a while," he said. "I got back just in time to see a
man climb over the fence and whistle to you."

"Oh, you saw that!" She exhaled a deep breath. "I'm sorry you did, but
it can't be helped. I suppose you know everything now."

"I can guess enough," he answered, with a bitterness she failed to
catch. "I don't know who he was, but that is no affair of mine."

"I ought to have told you all along." She was avoiding his eyes. "I
felt that I could trust you fully, but I was ashamed to have you know.
I was anxious for you to take away as good an opinion of us all as was
possible. You have been so kind to us. I'm sure no such degradation
has ever come into your family."

"Nothing like _this_, at any rate," he answered. "As far as I know