"Dorothy," said I, seriously but kindly, "have you and Sir John spoken
of--"

She evidently knew that I meant to say "of love," for she interrupted me.

"N-o, but surely he knows. And I--I think--at least I hope with all my
heart that--"

"I will take the heart to Sir John," said I, interrupting her angrily,
"and you need not see him again. He has acted like a fool and a knave. He
is a villain, Dorothy, and I will tell him as much in the most emphatic
terms I have at my command."

"Dare you speak against him or to him upon the subject!" she exclaimed,
her eyes blazing with anger; "you--you asked for my confidence and I gave
it. You said I might trust you and I did so, and now you show me that I am
a fool indeed. Traitor!"

"My dear cousin," said I, seeing that she spoke the truth in charging me
with bad faith, "your secret is safe with me. I swear it by my knighthood.
You may trust me. I spoke in anger. But Sir John has acted badly. That you
cannot gainsay. You, too, have done great evil. That also you cannot
gainsay."

"No," said the girl, dejectedly, "I cannot deny it; but the greatest evil
is yet to come."

"You must do something," I continued. "You must take some decisive step
that will break this connection, and you must take the step at once if you
would save yourself from the frightful evil that is in store for you.