“Going to see her, Alice!”
“Yes, uncle; we have been acting too much in the dark all along. Part of the accusation against Frank is untrue anyhow. Thank God for it! And I am determined now to find out from her how much Frank really was to blame. I am afraid we have been very cruel, uncle.”
“Nonsense, Alice,” her uncle said, testily. “The old man’s daughter was missing, and he came to me after seeing what he certainly thought was her body. Fortunately, it was not. That misery is off our minds anyhow. I am quite ready to forgive Frank—in fact, I have forgiven him, and I really do not see any use in making any more inquiries into the matter.”
“I am very glad and very thankful too, uncle; but my point of view in the matter naturally differs somewhat from yours. Besides, uncle, I really want to see this unfortunate young woman.”
Captain Bradshaw looked intensely surprised.
“Yes, uncle, I want to see her for James’s sake. Poor boy! I fear, uncle, he cannot last very much longer, and I am sure it would make him very happy if he could have her to nurse him, and be with him to the end.”
“But, my dear Alice, do you remember——?”
“My dear uncle,” Alice said, gently, “I only remember how terribly she must have suffered. We are going to forgive Frank, and to take him back again; is it for us to throw this poor girl’s fault in her face?”
“My dear,” her uncle said, kissing her, “I beg your pardon. You are a dear good girl, and I am an old fool.”
At nine o’clock, Alice Heathcote, attended by a footman, went down to the library. The shop was closed, but the door was opened by Mr. Walker.