‘Ah! Anan, boy.’
‘I pledge my life on her love and innocence.’
‘Love! Yes, my poor boy; but if she be unworthy?—Eh? Cecily, what says he?’
‘He is sure of her innocence, sir?’
‘That is of course. But, my dear lad, you will soon learn that even a gentle, good woman who has a conscience-keeper is too apt to think her very sense of right ought to be sacrificed to what she calls her religion.—What is it, what is he telling you, Cecily?’
‘She was ready to be one of us,’ Berenger said, with a great effort to make it clear.
‘Ah, a further snare. Poor child! The very softest of them become the worst deceivers, and the kindred who have had the charge of her all their life could no doubt bend her will.’
‘Sir,’ said Berenger, finding argument impossible, ‘if you will but let me dispatch Osbert, her answer will prove to you what she is.’
‘There is something in that,’ said Lord Walwyn, when he had heard it repeated by Cecily. ‘It is, of course, needful that both she and her relations should be aware of Berenger’s life, and I trow nothing but the reply will convince him.’
‘Convince him!’ muttered Berenger. ‘Oh that I could make him understand. What a wretch I am to have no voice to defend her!’