"I shall be charmed," he said, and she led the way to a rustic bench, under the spreading branches of a gnarled, old apple-tree.
"Our friend makes no secrets of his own affairs from me, you must understand," Kent-Lauriston began, after assuring himself that they were alone, "and I imagine, from what he's said, that he's given you some inkling of his heart troubles."
"Yes," she said, "he hinted to me in London that he had some affair under consideration; but I do not think he felt deeply—as he should have felt. I trust it's not turned out seriously."
"Not as yet, I'm glad to say—but he's in some danger; and, believe me, you could not be doing him a greater service, than in helping to ward off this peril, which would be the ruin of his life."
"Indeed, yes,—but what means have I?"
"I believe you have it in your power to prove that the woman who has bewitched him, is unworthy of his love. Let him realise this and he is saved."
"But, surely, you're not alluding to the lady who formed our topic of conversation this morning?"
"I fear I am."
"But Mr. Stanley assured me that she was nothing to him."
"You were talking at cross purposes, and unintentionally deceiving each other."