"Let me unfasten it," she said, unconscious that aught save awkwardness affected my manipulation of the spring. And she took the locket and handed it back to me open, wet with tears--her tears.
Judge how hard it was for me then to keep my promise to Mr. Craven and myself--how hard it was to refrain from telling her all my reasons for having ever undertaken to fight the dragon installed at River Hall.
I thank God I did refrain. Had I spoken then, had I presumed upon her sorrow and her simplicity, I should have lost something which constitutes the sweetest memory of my life.
But that is in the future of this story, and meantime I was looking at the face of her father.
I looked at it long and earnestly; then I closed the locket, softly pressing down the spring as I did so, and gave back miniature and chain into her hand.
"Well, Mr. Patterson?" she said, inquiringly.
"Can you bear what I have to tell?" I asked.
"I can, whatever it may be," she answered.
She threw up her arms with a gesture of despair.
"And," I went on, "I may be wrong, but I think I am destined to solve the mystery of its appearance."
She covered her eyes, and there was silence between us for a minute, when I said:
"Can you give me the name of the person who told you I was at River Hall?"
"I cannot," she repeated. "I promised not to mention it."
"No; he asked my aunt to do so, and she refused; and so I--I thought I would write to you without mentioning the matter to her."
"You have done me an incalculable service," I remarked, "and in return I will tell you something."
"From to-night I shall not be alone in the house."
"Oh! how thankful I am!" she exclaimed; then instantly added, "Here is my aunt."
"Oh! it is you, is it?" said the lady. "The girl told me some one was waiting."
Hot and swift ran the colour to my adored one's cheeks.
"Aunt," she observed, "I think you forget this gentleman comes from Mr. Craven."
"Oh, no! my dear, I don't forget Mr. Craven, or his clerks either," responded Miss Blake, as, still cloaked and bonneted, she tore open Mr. Craven's envelope.
"I am to take back an answer, I think," said I.
"You are, I see," she answered. "He's getting mighty particular, is William Craven. I suppose he thinks I am going to cheat him out of his paltry ten pounds. Ten pounds, indeed! and what is that, I should like to know, to us in our present straits! Why, I had more than twice ten yesterday from a man on whom we have no claim--none whatever--who, without asking, offered it in our need."