“I don’t think that Miss Capponi shares your misconception.”
“No, she does not,” said Phillis frankly. “But she doesn’t know where the money came from.”
“Does she not?” Jack lifted his eyebrows with a little incredulity. “Then I really think I ought to give you a hint to be used for her special benefit. But it seems to me that the blindness of the world is one of its chief wonders. Why, Phillis, can’t you see that young Moroni would think all he had well thrown away if he could get her?”
“Young Moroni! I fancied that was quite a hopeless devotion.”
“Not so hopeless now, I imagine. He had hard work to bring his father to his way of thinking, then he came here and found Trent to the fore; but now—”
“When did he make you this confidant?” asked Phillis quickly.
“On the day of the great blow up: I acted as interpreter, and then had to hear all his hopes and fears. And I wish him full success.”
Jack had leapt across a little running stream, and held out his hand to Phillis, looking into her eyes as he did so. What did he read there? What new happiness trembled in their brown depths, what deep and tender faithfulness did he discover? Was this the moment at last for which he had longed and hoped?
“Ibbetson! Ibbetson, for Heaven’s sake, what’s that?”
The cry came from Captain Leyton, who was running back and pointing eagerly towards the river. “Where?” shouted Jack, eager in his turn.