“I used to think, sometimes, that you looked at me as if you suspected that I was not all I seemed to be.”
“No, honey; that wasn’t it. I couldn’t help seeing that you had had great troubles—very great troubles for one so young—and I used to look at you and wonder what in this world they could be. But all the time I know’d very well—I know’d ’way down deep in my heart—that you was good and true, and didn’t deserve to be so afflicted. And now it is proved as you didn’t. The ‘sinner’ told me all about it—every bit—and I reckon I know more than you do, now, honey; because the ‘sinner’ said that to-morrow he meant to come to the house and tell you and Mr. Hereward all that he had told yesterday to the baroness, and to-day to me. So, of course, you see, you have got to hear something you don’t yet know.”
“He told the baroness!” exclaimed Lilith, while Hereward listened attentively.
“Yes, yesterday; and me to-day.”
“Where is Zuniga now?” inquired Hereward.
“Gone back to the Hotel of Love, on the Rue River.”
“Where?” inquired Hereward, looking to Lilith for an explanation.
“Hotel du Louvre, Rue de Rivoli,” said Lilith, adding: “Aunt Sophie has not yet become accustomed to foreign words.”
“No, honey; and I never shall, neither—never! Now, everybody here calls the nicest man that I know the ‘sinner,’ as if he was the only sinner in the world. Why, we are all sinners, for that matter. And then Mrs. Hereward here——”
“Lilith! Lilith! dear Aunt Sophie.”