Through all of this Anne was far from oblivious to the sinister comparisons the man was drawing. She had always been a little afraid of him. Now an uneasy horror was laying its hold upon her. He had used her as an example in persuading a silly, unsophisticated girl to give herself to him. He had gone about his courtship in the finery his dead master had left behind him.
"I thank you for your good wishes, Mrs. Thorpe," he went on, smoothly. "If it is not too much to ask, I should like to have you say a few good words for me to Marian some day soon. She would be very greatly influenced by the opinion of so great a lady as—"
"But I thought you said it was settled," she broke in sharply.
"It is settled," he said. "But if you would only do me the favour of—er—advising her to name an earlier day than the seventeenth, I—"
"I cannot advise her, Wade," said she firmly. "It is out of the question."
"I am sorry," he said, lowering his gaze. "Mr. Thorpe was my best friend as well as my master. I thought, for his sake, you might consent to—"
"You must do your own pleading, Wade," she interrupted, a red spot appearing in each cheek. Then rashly: "You may continue to court her in Mr. Thorpe's clothes but you need not expect his wife to lend her assistance also."
His eyes glittered. "I am sorry if I have offended you, ma'am. And I thank you for being honest and straightforward with me. It is always best."
"I did not mean to hurt your feelings, Wade," she began, half-sorry for her remark.
"Not in the least, ma'am. Nothing can hurt my feelings. You see, I lived with Mr. Thorpe a great deal longer than you did. I got quite beyond being hurt."