“No, sir. We did not mention Mr. Rutherford,” Marian answered, hanging her head patiently. “I behaved with what Miss Brooke counted too much freedom. She rebuked me, and I—I was much upset. I do not defend myself, but—”
Leo was considerably perplexed.
“Miss Brooke has not complained of you,” he said.
“No, sir. The less spoken the better,” Marian said, calmly and sadly. “I didn’t expect to be so easily overcome. I thought I was stronger. But we’re often most weak where we count ourselves strong; and so it’s proved with me.”
“Why should you be ‘weak,’ as you call it, in connection with Miss Brooke?” asked Leo.
Marian murmured something about a “likeness.”
“Are you speaking the truth to me?” asked Leonard, with some severity.
She raised her saddened, dim eyes to his.
“Yes, sir, the truth, but not all the truth. Miss Brooke does bear a likeness to one in the past, and it upsets me to see her. But there’s more behind, which I’d best not tell, and you’d best not ask. If Mr. Rutherford was up and well—”
Leo sighed.