Herrick took her by the arm and forced her to look into his face. "My dear girl," he said, "I am to be your husband, and you must obey and consult me in all things. If you are playing with fire, I must know. Do you not trust me Bess?"
"Yes. But the secret is not my own."
"In that case I won't press you for an explanation," he said relaxing his grip, "you are a foolish girl to have any secrets from one who loves you. But I suppose you have given your word not to tell?"
"Yes. I cannot break my word."
Herrick nodded. "I do not ask you to. The secret of Stephen shall be respected. I do not even ask you if it has to do with the murder of his uncle. There is no need to ask."
Bess looked at him irresolutely, her face scarlet. Then without a word she went slowly away. Herrick looked after her and nodded to himself. "I believe she has found out something about Mrs. Marsh, and has told Stephen; that would account for their melancholy and for the secret which she says exists between them. I shall ask Stephen."
That same afternoon Herrick went back to "The Pines" and into the bedroom of Marsh-Carr. The young man was lying staring at the ceiling. He seemed listless and worn-out. When Jim entered he turned his face towards the wall so as to avoid his friend's eyes. Herrick pretended to take no notice although he was cut to the heart by the avoidance of his gaze. He was very fond of Stephen, and mourned over this thing which had come between them. However it was necessary to take extreme measures if the situation was to be improved.
"Steve," said Herrick formulating a plan, "I can't eat alone any longer, you must come down to dinner to-night."
"I can't," said Stephen in a muffled tone, "I am too ill."
"I know you are. Life and brightness and my society are what you need. I was wrong to send you to bed. As your doctor I now order you to get up."