"I came as a companion to my daughter."
"And you told her----"
"I told her nothing," said Mrs. Belswin, vehemently. "So help me, Heaven! she knows nothing. I am her companion, her paid companion--nothing more."
"I am glad you have had the sense to spare my daughter the story of your shame. How did you obtain the situation?"
"It was advertised, and I got it through Dombrain."
"Did he know who you were?"
"How could he? Do you think all the world knows the story of my folly?"
"Your folly!" he repeated, with deep scorn; "your sin you mean. Dombrain was a long time in New Zealand; he must have heard of the case."
"If he did he never saw me. He did not recognise me."
Sir Rupert looked at her doubtfully, as if he would drag the truth from her unwilling lips. She stood before him white, silent, defiant, and he arose slowly to his feet.