"Yes." Ruth gave it to him. "But it explains nothing."
"It explains all there is to explain," said Mr. Cass. "Let the matter drop now. Neil has gone away on business; so we will say nothing about his love for you. You'll soon get over it."
"Indeed I shan't!" sobbed the girl, now on the tearful tack. "It is cruel of you to send him away when I love him so. I don't believe he gave me up because you refused. There is something else."
"There is nothing else." Mr. Cass's tone was decisive.
But Ruth's fine ear caught something of hesitation in his voice, and she dropped her handkerchief from her eyes with a triumphant air. "I knew there was something else. What is it--something about his parents?"
Mr. Cass started and changed colour at this chance shot. "Good Heavens, child! Who told you anything about his parents?" he said; and no sooner had he said it than he repented his rashness. For thereby she had gained an advantage which she would not be slow to seize.
"Why," she said, very slowly, with her eyes fixed on her father's perturbed face, "it was just this way. Neil told me all about his parents having died in America, and how you had brought him up at Bognor."
"Did he tell you nothing else?" Mr. Cass was beginning to feel that she was too much for him.
This was an opportunity which the girl was too clever to lose. "Well, he did not tell me everything," she said. "He couldn't, you know."
"I'm glad he had that much sense," Mr. Cass said, with relief.