"No; but for all that——" began Franklin, only to break off. "Where has she gone?" he demanded angrily.
"I don't know. She had some money, and took a small black bag with her. She said when she got settled she would write here and let me know where she was, on condition that I did not tell you."
"She has every reason to. Poor, miserable girl! to be an outcast, and now to leave her only refuge," he sighed and shook his head. Giles all the time had been watching Portia, whose face bore an expression of obstinacy worthy of a mule. "Did this scheme for Anne's departure include the masquerade you have indulged in?"
"It is my own idea," she retorted defiantly. "Anne wished to get away without my father knowing, so I stopped in her room and pretended to be Anne. The servants were deceived, as I knew exactly how to imitate her voice. I pulled down the blind, so that no one should see who I was. Only you could have guessed the truth."
"How is that?"
"Because you love her."
Giles thought this a strange speech for the heavy-looking girl to make. "Is that an original remark on your part?" he asked.
"No," she confessed candidly; "I suggested to Anne that I should pass myself off as her, and so give her a longer time to get away. She said that I might deceive the servants and my father, but that I could never deceive you, because you loved her. But I had a good try," continued Portia, nodding her red head triumphantly. "When my father spoke your name at the door I thought I would try."
"Well, you have done so only to fail," responded Ware coolly. "For the moment I was deceived, but you forgot how to manage your voice, and, moreover, your explanation was too elaborate. But how is it you dare to confess, as Anne, that she killed the girl?"
"Anne did kill Daisy Kent!"