"But is that fair to me, Mrs. Tice?"
"Silence is more than fair to you in this case," said the old dame, looking steadily at the eager face of the young girl. "It is merciful."
"Merciful? That is a strange word to use."
"It is the only word that can be used," replied Mrs. Tice emphatically. "No, do not ask me any more, my dear young lady. The secret I hold is not my own to tell. Should Mr. Allen give me permission to reveal it, I shall do so; otherwise I prefer to be silent."
One would have thought that this speech was final; but Dora was too bent upon learning the truth of Allen's strange behaviour to be satisfied. She urged, she cajoled, she threatened, she implored, but all to no purpose. Whatever it was that Mrs. Tice knew detrimental to the past of Mr. Edermont, she was determined to keep it to herself. Evidently there was nothing left but to wait until Allen returned. From experience Dora knew that she could wheedle anything out of her easy-going lover.
"Do you know anything about Lady Burville?" asked Dora, finding she could not persuade Mrs. Tice into confessing what she knew.
"I know nothing--not even the name," said the housekeeper. "Why do you ask?"
"Because Lady Burville has something to do with the quarrel between Mr. Edermont and Allen."
"I can safely say that I know nothing on that point, Miss Carew. Lady Burville is a complete stranger to me, and, I should say, to Mr. Allen. I have never heard him speak of her."
"But Mr. Edermont knows her."