“Oh, pray do not insist!”
If Henrietta had known the old merchant, she would have read in his eyes the satisfaction which he felt. A moment before he had despaired of ever gaining her confidence; now he felt almost sure of success. The time seemed to him to have come to strike a decisive blow.
“I have tried my best to win your confidence, I confess; but it was solely in your own interest. If it had been otherwise, do you think I should have asked you these questions, instead of finding out every thing by simply tearing a piece of paper?”
The poor girl could not retain a cry of terror.
“You mean my letters?”
“I have both.”
“Ah! That is why the ladies who nursed me looked for them everywhere in vain.”
Instead of any other answer, he drew them from his pocket, and laid them on the bed with an air of injured innocence. To all appearances, the envelopes had not been touched. Henrietta glanced at them, and then, holding out her hand to the old man, she said,—
“I thank you, sir!”
He did not stir; but he felt that this false evidence of honesty had helped him more than all his eloquence. He hastily added,—