"One of my reasons for acting thus was my desire to see and be near you. I had heard a great deal about you at different times, and I wanted to make your acquaintance, and judge you for myself before letting you know that I was in any way mixed up with your private affairs. I wanted, in fact, to meet you as an utter stranger."
"Before you go any further," said Eleanor, "I should like to ask you one question. When you first came down to Pembridge, did you know that I was not Mr. Lloyd's daughter, and, consequently, not entitled to his property?"
"Then it was very wrong of you to let me live on in ignorance of my real position. You were making yourself the accomplice of Mr. Kelvin."
"Granted. But I had very special reasons for acting as I did. I suspected the existence of some plot or scheme against you which I was desirous of fathoming. Besides, I could not find in my heart to be the one to strike the cruel blow that would deprive you of name and fortune, and shake the very foundations of your life."
"The cruelty lay in not telling me. You did me a great injustice, and, at the same time, you deeply wronged Mr. Warburton the real heir."
"Oh, if Mr. Warburton's anything like a decent sort of fellow, he won't mind a bit when it's all explained to him," said Gerald, with a twinkle in his eye.
Eleanor looked excessively pained. "You talk so strangely," she said in a faltering voice, "that I hardly understand you."
Gerald's arm went round her waist, and before she could offer any resistance half a score kisses had been rained on her cheeks.
"Oh! my darling," he cried, "cannot you see through it? Cannot you understand it all? I--I am Gerald Warburton!"
"You Gerald Warburton!" she said, as if repeating the words mechanically after him, but without comprehending what they meant. She put his arm aside, and stood up and stared into his face, as she might have stared had she been walking in her sleep, and were now coming back to consciousness.
He drew her down gently on to the seat again, and made one of her hands a prisoner in his.
"It is even as I have told you," he said.
"It was I who Miss Bellamy sent for when she became alarmed by Kelvin's long silence. It was then, for the first time, that I heard your real history. Up to that day I had always looked upon you as my cousin. I came here under an assumed name, and I accepted the secretaryship to Sir Thomas Dudgeon, simply that I might see you and be near you, myself unknown. To see you and be near you was to love you. I determined, if it were possible to do so, to win you in the character of a poor man. Whether I have succeeded or failed, you know best."