“Yes; Captain Stavers, the new landlord of Graveleigh, seems to be a very bad man; and though he could not turn the Somerses out of the cottage so long as they paid rent, which we took care they did pay,—yet out of a very wicked spite he set up a rival shop in one of his other cottages in the village, and it became impossible for these poor young people to get a livelihood at Graveleigh.”
“What excuse for spite against so harmless a young couple could Captain Stavers find or invent?”
Cecilia looked down and coloured. “It was a revengeful feeling against Jessie.”
“Ah, I comprehend.”
“But they have now left the village, and are happily settled elsewhere. Will has recovered his health, and they are prospering much more than they could ever have done at Graveleigh.”
“In that change you were their benefactress, Miss Travers?” said Kenelm, in a more tender voice and with a softer eye than he had ever before evinced towards the heiress.
“No, it is not I whom they have to thank and bless.”
“Who, then, is it? Your father?”
“No. Do not question me. I am bound not to say. They do not themselves know; they rather believe that their gratitude is due to you.”
“To me! Am I to be forever a sham in spite of myself? My dear Miss Travers, it is essential to my honour that I should undeceive this credulous pair; where can I find them?”