"Sit down!" she said, imperiously. "We must understand each other. First, then, let us discuss your position, and see how best you can escape the danger which threatens you. I may be able to help you."
"I don't think so." Johnson shook his head despondently. Nevertheless, he resumed his seat.
"We shall see. A woman's wit can oftentimes achieve more than a man's logic. That order for women to be silent was a mistake on the part of St. Paul. Nine men out of ten owe what is best in their lives to the advice of their wives or their mothers. Tell me how matters stand with you."
"Believe me, I am glad to make you my confidante, Miss Arnott. God knows I need a friend."
"I am your friend--more than your friend. Have I not proved at least my desire for your welfare? Trivial, perhaps, of itself, my action in paying your bills shows that. It was I who placed the receipts on your study table."
Johnson looked up quickly. "Then it was you who took away the bills?"
"It was I," rejoined Miss Arnott, composedly; "what else could I do? It was necessary that I should have a list of your creditors. So I watched at your window to see where you left your accounts. I came through the fence which divides your house from mine; you know it is broken in several parts."
"Then it was your footsteps I heard?"
"It was, Mr. Johnson. I saw you looking at the pearls and your accounts. I feared lest in your great stress you might be tempted to sell that girl's treasure. I determined to have those bills. On hearing my step you came out, and left them on the table."
"Yes, I did. But I could not see you."