“You must think I am a poor weak creature indeed, if my friends are obliged to take care of me,” she said drily. “I was a fool to touch it—that is the long and the short of it. I have given you a charming impression of the girls of San Francisco—sit down: we look idiotic standing in the middle of the room holding each other’s hand—I can assure you that there was not another girl in the house who would have done what I did, or whom you would have dared to kiss. In a new country, you know, the social lines are drawn very tight, and the best people are particular to prudery. It is necessary: there are so many dreadful women out here. I am positive that in the set to which Captain Hastings has introduced you, you will meet a larger number of well-conducted people than you have ever met in any one place before.”
“It is very good of you to put on armour for your city,” he said, smiling. “I shall always think of it as your city, by the way. But I thought you did not like California.”
“It is my country. I feel great pride in it. You will find that it is a country with a peculiar influence. Some few natures it leaves untouched—but they are precious few. In the others, it quickens all the good and evil they were born with.”
Thorpe looked at her with a profound interest. He was eager to hear all that she had to say.
“I have never before had occasion to speak like this to any man,” she went on. “If I had had, I should not have done so. I should have carried it off with a high hand, ignored it, assumed that I was above criticism. I only speak to you so frankly because you are an Englishman. People of the same blood are clannish when away from their own land. I say this without coquetry: I care more for your good opinion than for that of any of the others—I am so tired of them!”
“Thank you—even if you did rather spoil it. You have it, if it really matters to you. Surely, you don’t think I misunderstand. I insist upon assuming all the blame—and—upon apologising.”
“Well, I am glad you apologised. Although you were not the most to blame, just for the moment it made me feel that you were. I have already forgiven you.” She dropped her eyes for a moment, then looked at him again with her square, almost defiant regard. “There is something I have been trying to lead up to. It is this—it is not very easy to say—I want you to make a promise. There is a skeleton in this house. Some people know. I don’t want you to ask them about it. My father will ask you here constantly. I shall want you to come, too. I ask you to promise to keep your eyes shut. Will you?”
“I shall see nothing. Thanks, thanks.” He got up and moved nervously about. “We will be friends, the best of friends, promise me that. No flirtation. No nonsense. There may be something I can do to help you while I am here. I hope there will be.”
“There will not, but I like you better for saying that—I know you are not demonstrative.” She threw herself back in her chair and smiled charmingly. “As to the other part—yes, we shall be the best of friends. It was hard to speak, but I am glad that I did. I knew it was either that or a nodding acquaintance, and I had made up my mind that it should be something quite different. When we are alone and serious, we will not flirt; but I have moods, irrepressible ones. If, when we meet in society, I happen to be in a highly flirtatious humour, you are to flirt with me. Do you understand?”