"You mean--that you _don't_ trust him?" I exclaimed in surprise.
"I mean I'm not sure that I do." She was speaking slowly now, choosing
her words with an effort. "That's quite as bad, isn't it? For I don't
know what to do about him. I am afraid that I may make things worse,
perhaps."
"You're sure that you can't tell me?"
"Oh, I daren't! If I were only sure, I might, but even then it would be
hard." Her voice was plaintive, and yet her accent was decisive.
There was a pause in which I thought of many things. As I waited,
uncertain, my eyes stayed on the fine, erect, colored girl before me, so
passionately loyal to her mistress, so delicately sensitive to the
anomalous part she was playing. Though her resolution had in no way
broken down, I could see how she was wrought upon, how difficult a
position was hers in that strange house.
"Well," I said finally, "there's of course nothing for me to do, then,
but to leave. Miss Fielding has told me explicitly that your judgment
can be depended upon. I have no right here, of course; I'm an
interloper----"
She put a dark, well-shaped hand on my arm, in timid reproach.
"Yet, I hope you can trust me," I added, not hesitating to clasp that
hand in friendship and confidence.
She took it away quickly, but looked at me with her soul in her dark
eyes. "Oh, I'm sure of you!" she said simply.
"You make it very hard for me to go," I ventured.
"I shall think of you," she replied. "I shall long for your strength
and judgment. I must think it over, more, and try to decide on a line of
action. It may be--I won't promise--that I shall send for you to come
down."
"I'll come at a moment's notice!" I exclaimed. "Oh, do let me help in
some way!"
"Would you?" She clasped her hands to her breast again and sighed, as
if I had really helped her by my promise. Then, "I'm glad to be able to
know that. Miss Joy likes you. I think you have a rare sympathy for
her condition. It's a relief. Then we'll leave it that way. So you'll
go?"
"To-morrow morning," I answered.
*VII*
We met, next morning, in the library, for I could move alone, now, and
had gone down early. My hostess, dressed in white duck, was in her most
exquisitely graceful mood, quite the delicate, refined, intense woman I
had first known.
"Do you really think that it's safe for you to leave to-day!" she asked,
when I had announced my intention to her. "I am afraid we shall miss
you very much, Mr. Castle. I feel quite as if I had made a friend."
"If you do, it more than repays me for my accident, Miss Fielding. It
only remains for you to prove it by permitting me to do something for
you."