'Perhaps I do,' cried Miss Woodville, a little less alarmed, and catching at this plausible excuse for her uneasiness; 'for, should I be forced to leave my cousin's house, I shall be reduced to comparative poverty and solitude again.'
'But why shouldest thou be forced to leave it? Art thou not Adeline's friend?'
'Ye—yes,' faltered out Miss Woodville.
'But it is uncertain whether we can find Adeline—still we shall be very diligent in our inquiries; yet it is so strange that she should never have written to her mother, if alive, that perhaps—'
'Oh, I dare say she is dead,' hastily interrupted Miss Woodville.
'Has she been dead long, thinkest thou?'
'No—not long—not above six months, I dare say.'
'No!—Hast thou any reason then for knowing that she was alive six months ago?' asked Mrs Pemberton, looking steadily at Miss Woodville, as she spoke.
'I?—Lord—no—How should I know?' she replied, her lip quivering, and her whole frame trembling.
'I tell thee how.—Art thou not conscious of having intercepted letters from thy cousin to her relenting parent?'