Ralph drew his pipe from his firm lips, and looked steadily at his aunt.
“Have you any motive for asking that, Aunt Margaret?” he said.
Miss Webster hesitated. Her faded cheeks flushed slightly; her thin hands moved uneasily.
“I think you have,” went on Ralph Webster.
“Well, Ralph, I have,” replied Miss Webster, with an effort. “You see Miss Churchill is still with us, and for the present likely to remain, and I am not quite easy in my mind about something. I know nothing, you know, my dear; but still something a little strange, I think, occurred the other day, and I think it better to tell you. You remember Mr. John Temple wrote to ask us to receive his young cousin for a short time? A fortnight, I think he said.”
Ralph Webster nodded his head; he was listening intently to his aunt’s words.
“We were only too happy to do this, both Eliza and myself,” continued Miss Webster. “We have both the greatest regard and friendship for Mr. John Temple; but the other day I got a letter from him inclosing one for May Churchill, which, of course, I at once gave her, and the same day May gave me a very large letter to inclose to Mr. John Temple. It seemed strange, did it not? As if there were some secret?”
Still Ralph did not speak. His dark, marked brows were knitted; he was evidently thinking deeply.
“And,” proceeded Miss Webster, “when I hesitated a little, just a little, about inclosing her letter to Mr. John Temple, May suddenly said, ‘I know all this must seem strange to you, Miss Webster, but some day you will understand it; some day you will know that neither John nor I are doing any wrong’—or words to that effect at least.”