"Oh!" said she, turning away from me; and then, very slowly: "No,
I suppose not."
"Certainly not," I added; "how should it be?"
"How indeed!" said she, over her shoulder. And then I saw that
she was angry, and wondered.
"And yet," I went on, after a lapse of silence, "I think I could
have answered both questions the moment I saw you at your
casement."
"Oh!" said she--this time in a tone of surprise, and her anger
all gone again, for I saw that she was smiling; and again I
wondered.
"Yes," I nodded.
"Then," said she, seeing I was silent, "whom do you suppose me?"
"You are, to the best of my belief, the Lady Helen Dunstan." My
companion stood still, and regarded me for a moment in wide-eyed
astonishment.
"And how, air, pray, did you learn all this?" she demanded, with
the dimple once more peeping at me slyly from the corner of her
pretty mouth.
"By the very simple method of adding two and two together," I
answered; "moreover, no longer ago than yesterday I broke bread
with a certain Mr. Beverley--"
I heard her breath come in a sudden gasp, and next moment she was
peering up into my face while her hands beat upon my breast with
soft, quick little taps.
"Beverley!" she whispered. "Beverley!--no, no--why, they told
me--Sir Harry told me that Peregrine lay dying--at Tonbridge."
"Then Sir Harry Mortimer lied to you," said I, "for no longer ago
than yesterday afternoon I sat in a ditch eating bread and cheese
with a Mr. Peregrine Beverley."
"Oh!--are you sure--are you sure?"
"Quite sure. And, as we ate, he told me many things, and among
them of a life of wasted opportunities--of foolish riot, and
prodigal extravagance, and of its logical consequence--want."
"My poor Perry!" she murmured.
"He spoke also of his love for a very beautiful and good woman,
and its hopelessness."
"My dear, dear Perry!" said she again.
"And yet," said I, "all this is admittedly his own fault, and, as
I think Heraclitus says: 'Suffering is the inevitable consequence
of Sin, or Folly.'"
"And he is well?" she asked; "quite--quite well?"
"He is," said I.
"Thank God!" she whispered. "Tell me," she went on, "is he so
very, very poor--is he much altered? I have not seen him for a
whole, long year."