“I could esteem nothing more of an honor,” he said, stiffly, “than to have been either an old or a new friend of Miss Vincent. But, in point of fact, our acquaintance in the past was very slight, as your knowledge that she was quite a child at the time might inform you.”
“Oh!” said Miss Joscelyn. Even her self-possession had need to recover itself after this douche of cold water. But, while she exclaimed mentally that he was a perfect churl, her resentment was accompanied by a sense of triumph. “There is a mystery,” she thought, “and I am sure that Fanny Meredith is at the bottom of it!” With a laudable desire of probing further, therefore, she went on:
“We have all misunderstood a little, then,” she said, with some significance. “There has been an impression created—not so much by Aimée as by Mrs. Meredith—that you were friends in a very particular sense. I think,” she added, with an air of carefully weighing her words, “that it is a pity such an impression should be allowed to remain, if it does Aimée an injustice.”
“If such an impression exists,” said Kyrle, with emphasis, “it certainly does Miss Vincent the greatest injustice, and should not be permitted to remain. I repeat that my acquaintance with her was very slight, and that I thought of her only as a child, though I was struck by some qualities very remarkable in a child, which she displayed.”
“It is singular, since your acquaintance with her was so slight, that you should have been able to discover these qualities,” observed Miss Joscelyn, innocently, “for Aimée is very reserved, very secretive, one may say, in her nature.”
“There were circumstances which called out the qualities,” said Kyrle, briefly; for he began to understand that he was being subjected to a process vulgarly known as pumping, and he had no idea of either gratifying Miss Joscelyn’s curiosity or betraying Fanny Meredith’s secret, unless defense of Aimée should make the last absolutely necessary.
“It is rather difficult to imagine what circumstances calculated to draw out remarkable qualities could have thrown together a shy child like Aimée and a young man like yourself,” said Miss Joscelyn, musingly. She glanced at him, and since the expression of his face said plainly that he declined to be communicative regarding these circumstances, she proved her talent for cross-examination by a swift and unexpected diversion:
“What a very attractive girl Fanny Berrien was at that time! Speaking of your acquaintance with Aimée reminds me that it was during that winter in Florida she became engaged to Mr. Meredith. It was said that she jilted another man shamefully—some one to whom she had been engaged a long time—in order to marry him.”
“Very likely,” responded Kyrle, feeling bound to make some comment. “I should imagine that Mrs. Meredith was never inclined to limit herself in strings to her bow.”