Tony got up, pushing his letter from him.
“I have heard that you are not Thompson's daughter after all——”
“No. I was mother's child by her first husband, Dr. James Hoyle. So I am Cecily Hoyle after all. Because Mr. Thompson adopted me and then took my father's name, but he isn't related to me at all, really—not a scrap!” explained Cecily lucidly.
“So I have been told,” Tony assented.
As Cecily drew farther into the room he drew a little back, and rested his elbow on the mantelpiece.
“I—I thought you would be pleased, Tony,” the girl murmured, just glancing at him with sweet, dewy eyes. “Because, you see, it makes all the difference.”
“Difference—to what?” Anthony inquired in a stiff, uninterested tone.
“Why—why, to us,” Cecily whispered with trembling lips. “I—I said I couldn't be engaged to you any longer, Tony. But—but if you ask me again, I have changed my mind.”
“So have I changed my mind,” Tony returned gloomily. “You said you would not let me marry a thief's daughter—well, you see, I have some pride too. I will not let you marry a murderer's cousin!”
“Cousin! Pouf!” Cecily snapped her fingers. “Who cares what people's cousins do?”