“What was this but a chance?”
“There shall be nothing more that she can complain of. Everything must be absolutely open and above-board. Come, Mary, you know in your heart of hearts that I am right.”
“That,” she said, with a laugh, “is more than you can expect a woman to own. The utmost you will extract is that I may possibly allow that you are politic. And there is one thing that I shall do.”
“What?”
“Ah, that is my affair. Leave me alone.”
“I am not sure that you are to be trusted,” he said, looking at her, and shaking his head. But he made no further effort to learn her intentions, and in a few minutes took his leave.
What Mrs Marchmont meant to do, and did, was to confess to Kitty what had taken place. The girl became a little pale as she listened.
“I thought I could trust you, Mary,” she said at last.
“If you would both trust to me, I should put an end to this foolish slate of things,” retorted her friend.
“There is nothing to end,” Kitty answered quietly, though there was a tremor in her voice.