"When Mrs. Waring engaged me, she took me without a character," he went on.
"She did me, too," said Bessie, "so we're in the same boat."
"I had used some of my master's money, and before I could pay him back he found it out. I was going to return it, for I had money in the savings bank."
"Did you pay him back?"
"Yes, every penny; but he would give me no reference, and I was dreadfully afraid mother would find it out. It would have broken her heart."
"Well, that's all done with now, so forget it. You've good character enough now for the two of us."
"And you don't think any the less of me?" he asked, bending anxiously towards her.
"I think all the more of you," she said, looking up frankly into his face and pressing her hand upon his arm more firmly, "only it's made me feel rather queer, for I shall now be obliged to tell you not simply one bad thing I've done, but heaps. In fact, I don't know where to begin."
"That's all nonsense," he said. "I know you are trying to cheer me, and I bless you for it, but there's still another thing I must say, for I want that there should never be a shadow between us. I did not want to tell you of my slip. I don't want you to think I was frank enough to tell you all this of my own accord. It was Mrs. Waring who pressed me to tell you."
"That's just like her; she is a dear."