“Very well, then, where was I?”
“At the house of Mrs. Russell,—the sister of Mr. Manning.”
Olive looked at him in amazement. Then her manner changed.
“Since you know,” she said, “I may as well own up. I was at Mrs. Russell’s. What of it?”
“Only that if you prevaricated in one instance, Miss Raynor, you may have done so in others. Will you tell me why you said you were at the house of your friend, Miss Clark?”
“Of course I will. My guardian was unwilling to have me go to Mrs. Russell’s house, because of a personal matter. Therefore, when I wished to go there I sometimes told him that I was going to Miss Clark’s. This small falsehood I considered justifiable, because Mr. Gately had no right to say where I should go and where not! If I was untruthful it was because his unjust rules and regulations made me so! I am not a story-teller, ordinarily. If I was forced to be one, in order to enjoy some simple pleasures or diversions, it is no one’s business but my own.”
“That’s true, Hudson,” I interposed, “why constitute yourself Miss Raynor’s Sunday-School teacher?”
“Sorry I am to do so,” and the good-natured face showed real regret; “but I’ve orders. Now, Miss Raynor, I must put you a few straight questions. Where’s Mr. Amory Manning?”
“I don’t know! I only wish I did!”
“Now, now, that won’t do! I guess you can think up some hint of his whereabouts for me. You can’t deceive us, you know.”