“Then it was all right? I am so glad! But I don’t deserve all the credit. Your friend, Mr. Hugh Gordon, was here——”
“What! That fellow? Did he dare to come here?”
The start, the sudden turn, the sharp exclamation with which Brand broke into her sentence were so different from his habitual manner of deliberate movement and courteous speech that Henrietta gazed at him in amazement. Surprise and indignation sat upon his countenance.
“Why, yes,” she faltered. “He was here several times. The first time, a few days after you left, he told me he knew you wanted that letter sent.”
She went on to repeat what Gordon had told her and ended with: “Of course, I didn’t take his word for it entirely, but after what he told me I was able to find out enough to make me feel sure it was the right thing to do.”
“You did quite right,” he told her cordially. “But I am surprised to learn of his doing, for me, a friendly act like that. You said he was here afterwards?”
“Yes, several times. He came to tell me that you were quite safe and well and would return before long. I was very glad to have the assurance, for, of course, I couldn’t help being anxious.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it again suddenly, then, as he busied his hands with some papers on his desk, took sudden resolution and, though his face paled, said in a casual way:
“Did he tell you where I was?”
“He said he didn’t know where you were, but that he did know positively that if anything should happen to you he would be the first person to know anything about it. I felt so much less anxious after that.”