The fear of betraying either his secret or her knowledge of it held her back. That, and an instinct that no stranger should intermeddle with the deep things which filled her with wonder and awe. She refused to try, and saved her delicate spirit from risks unknown. Constancy tried every experiment, and laughed at them all. No influence touched her spirit or shook her nerves. She got hold of “Planchette,” and manipulated it so cleverly, guessed so keenly, and invented so boldly that she took in a whole group of not very wise inquirers, who thought she had developed a surprising power of receptiveness. She laughed and held her peace; but Florella still held apart, and the more she saw, the more she felt that she must guard Guy’s experiences from such intrusion. She found that it would have been very easy to betray them.
It was not in this surface region of easy puzzles and useless surprises that her soul touched his.
In two or three days’ time she received another note from him, hastily written and much less formal in style.
“It has suddenly come upon me that I have been taking your help without one thought of what it may cost you to give it. Why did I never know before that such help, even to one so innocent as you, must cost pain and effort? Never let that be! Forgive my selfishness; the sympathy you gave me seemed divine. But even Divine help costs suffering, and I should be the worst of all cowards, the most contemptible of traitors, to let you suffer with me. You have done so much—enough to win for ever the thanks of—
“Guy Waynflete.”
So then he knew. He knew that, when she fought for him, she too must “feel” the foe. He knew what the strain of self-giving meant. But there was no doubt of the answer. Florella sat down and wrote:—
“Dear Mr Waynflete,—
“I think, if God lets the help go through one, one need not be afraid. I am not good as you think, but I am not afraid. God understands it. I wish I could help more. I am very glad you liked the harebells, and I hope that Mr Staunton will not let you work too hard in this cold weather.
“Yours truly,—
“Florella Vyner.”