CHAPTER II.
AS she said the words, Captain Norris sprang towards her.
‘Not a friend left in the world, Liz! Oh! how can you say such a cruel thing whilst I am here?’
She could not answer him immediately for weeping, but she stretched forth her hand and laid it on his arm.
‘Forgive me, Captain Norris. I know that you are my friend, but grief makes us all selfish. Yet that they should think such a thing of me,—that even Mr Courtney, who has known me from a little child, should suspect me of so unworthy an action, it is bitterly, bitterly hard.’
‘You are speaking in riddles to me, Lizzie! Of what do they suspect you? Surely of nothing of which you need be ashamed? If so, they must answer to me for it. Your dead father honoured me with his friendship, and no one shall insult his daughter whilst I am able to prevent it.’
‘I should have known that I might count upon your championship, Captain Norris; but it is useless. I have entangled myself in a net from which I see no prospect of freedom. You must leave me to bear the consequences by myself.’