“You are right; I would do anything to help you. But what can a girl like me do? Nothing; nothing. I know too little. Mr. Challoner must see that when you tell him I’m only the daughter of a foreman.”
“And a friend of Mr. Brotherson,” supplemented Sweetwater.
“Yes,” she smiled, “he would want me to say so. But that’s his goodness. I don’t deserve the honour.”
“His friend and therefore his confidante,” Sweetwater continued. “He has talked to you about Miss Challoner?”
“He had to. There was nobody else to whom he could talk; and then, I had seen her and could understand.”
“Where did you see her?”
“In New York. I was there once with father, who took me to see her. I think she had asked Mr. Brotherson to send his little friend to her hotel if ever we came to New York.”
“That was some time ago?”
“We were there in June.”
“And you have corresponded ever since with Miss Challoner?”