but for an instant he was taken aback. Then he said, colouring—
"I respected your wish to remain unknown. And as you, for your own reasons, desired to keep 'dark,' I did not see why I should not do so. If I had told you who I was, you would have suspected that I had been sent by my uncle as a spy."
"I never suspect those I trust. T trust your uncle implicitly."
"You said when we departed, Miss Shaw, that you trusted me. I hope you still do so?"
"Frankly, my trust in you is a little shaken. But I hope to recover it," she added, smiling. "Now that I know you are dear Mr. Twisden's nephew—and he writes most affectionately of you—I am going to believe that you will be his worthy successor some day, and—my friend."
"I shall always be that," he said, eagerly. "But why do you say your trust is shaken? Because I concealed my name? Surely that is not fair. You yourself were in hiding, which comes to the same thing."
"Our positions were not the same, Mr. Daintree," she said, after a moment's hesitation. "I had particular reasons for wishing to be unknown. As to yours—the one you have just given me—it does not strike me as a very good one. You might have left the pension at once, after accidentally discovering me, had you been so afraid I should regard you as a 'spy.' After you were gone I learnt something which opened my eyes. But, let us forget the past—forget a little folly on your part, and some, perhaps, on mine. I am quite willing, frankly, to
