“And did you not offer me your friendship, did you not insist upon my accepting it—for Bertie’s sake?”
“For Bertie’s sake, yes,” he said in a low voice. “It was a promise I made him, and I would have kept it; but I am no longer capable of keeping it. No one’s friendship could be more valueless—or dangerous—than mine.”
“Because you are in trouble,” she said, and her eyes glowed upon him with tender indignation. “Because you cannot help me, you think that I do not care for your friendship. It was to be all one-sided. Is that it? I was to use you when I wanted you, to come to you for help and advice as to a true and firm friend; and then—when you were in trouble I was to desert and turn my back on you!”
He hung his head, and sighed.
“Mr. Faradeane, your experience of women must have been unfortunate!”
He looked up, as if her words had cut deeper than she had intended.
“You are right, Miss Vanley,” he said, so gravely and sadly that she uttered a little cry of dismay and remorse.
“Ah, what have I said?” she murmured.
“Nothing, nothing!” he replied, quickly, soothingly. “Nothing you could say would wound me. But—forgive me!—I know the kindness of heart which prompted you to pay me this visit; but was it wise? Your father——”
“He does not know that I have come. But I should not care if he did.” She spoke calmly and resolutely. “I am not ashamed of standing by a friend when all the world is against him.”