Here he slackened his steps, and then he said in a very gentle tone:
“Please don’t look so frightened, my dear Miss Pembury. I am not going to ask any awkward questions, believe me. I may say at once that I know you are shielding some one who was concerned in the disappearance of my picture, but I am not going to press you for any details which you may not feel inclined to give me. But I have had a rude shock within the last half-hour, following on an anxious time in connection with the disappearance of first the snuff-boxes and then the ‘Lady Hamilton.’ And I am obliged to come to you for—for advice, and—for guidance.”
“I’m afraid I’m too stupid to be able to advise any one,” said Rhoda timidly.
He made a gesture of denial.
“No, no. I quite understand the difficulty you are in, and I hope I shall not have to say anything to pain you. It is very hard on such a young woman as you are to find herself in such a position as that you are in. But you will help me if you can, I’m sure.”
“Of course I would help you in any way I could. You won’t press me to betray any secrets, I’m sure.”
He looked at her quickly.
“Tell me,” he said quite sharply, “whether, as far as you can see, I am neglecting any part of my duty to—to any member of my—my family.”
Rhoda drew a long breath, and then suddenly found courage. Turning her blue eyes full upon him, she said, while the colour deepened in her cheeks and her lips quivered:
“Yes, Sir Robert, I think you are.”