I didn't know. And when he wanted to know where you lived, I didn't know that either."
"But he did know; he came to see us."
"He didn't know from me. There is only one livery stable here. Of course he went and asked the cabman. Now, honestly, if you'd been in my place, what else could you have done?"
"Nothing," said Jane handsomely. "I'm sorry. But it did look black, didn't it?"
"Black as night," said the young man; "and yet, as you see, it wasn't, really. Will you allow me to forgive your terrible and unjust suspicions, and in return will you forgive what I really, you know, couldn't possibly help?"
"Oh yes," said Lucilla, but Jane said: "Yes—but I should like to know what you were doing in the house at all, and why you had the keys and knew where the wine was, and the towels and everything."
"Oh," said he, "didn't I tell you? I'm his nephew—Mr. James Rochester's, I mean. He sent me down because he suspected his charwoman of being drawn from her duties by beer. And he was quite right. I'm staying at his house while he's away. And now, I won't insist on forgiving you if you don't like it. But you will forgive me, won't you?"
"Let's wipe it all off the slate," said Jane briskly. "I'm awfully glad you haven't turned out a traitor. I do hate people not to turn out as—respectable as you thought they were going to be, don't you?"
"Yes," said he, "but they very seldom do. If you expect people to be decent they almost always are. Will you let me give you my arm?"
Jane let him give her his arm and they went back to the garden room, Lucilla following with five dafiodils, two tulips, a hyacinth, and a handful of forget-me-nots.
"Where's Mr. Simmons?" she said as they neared the house.
"I sent him home with the jampots," said Jane, and was intensely annoyed to feel a slow, hot flush spread over face
