"Forgive me! Yes, I do know it. I believe in you and your goodness to
the very bottom of my heart."

She tried to say "Thank you," but her lips refused to utter a word. It
was so difficult to go on talking like ordinary friends, when she knew,
and he must know she knew, that one more word would make them--not
friends at all--something infinitely better, closer, dearer; but that
word was his to speak, not hers. There are women who will "help a man
on"--propose to him, marry him indeed--while he is under the pleasing
delusion that he does it all himself; but Fortune Williams was not one of
these. She remained silent and passive, waiting for the next thing he
should say. It came: something the shock of which she never forgot as
long as she lived; and he said it with his eyes on her face, so that, if
it killed her, she must keep quiet and composed, as she did.

"You know the boys' lessons end next week. The week after I go--that is,
I have almost decided to go--to India."

"To India!"

"Yes, For which, no doubt, you think me very changeable, having said so
often that I meant to keep to a scholar's life, and be a professor one
day, perhaps, if by any means I could get salt to my porridge. Well, now
I am not satisfied with salt to my porridge; I wish to get rich."

She did not say, "Why?" She thought she had not looked it; but he
answered: "Never mind why. I do wish it, and I will be rich yet, if I
can. Are you very much surprised?"

Surprised she certainly was; but she answered, honestly, "Indeed, you are