"Harold Wainwright," she said, in a tone of authority that startled him, "I forbid you to have any secrets from me."
"Well," replied Harold, "if you command me to tell more, I must admit that Mrs. McSeeney and I had a confidential talk directly after it happened, and I persuaded her that she had better not mention the matter again."
"You persuaded her? How ridiculous! You must have threatened her with something. What was it?"
"I merely asked her if she remembered a certain evening at Bar Harbor when there was a fête at the Canoe Club."
"Well, what of it? I don't see anything unusual in that."
"I can't tell you more; only when I reminded her of that evening she acknowledged that it would be discreet for her to remain silent concerning you and Marion Sanderson. You see I happened accidentally to observe some of Mrs. McSeeney's actions on that occasion, and, considering that you were in her power, I felt justified in informing her of the fact."
"Then it was you who saved Marion and me from her spiteful tongue," said Florence in a relieved tone. "You don't know how grateful I am, and how I have worried over that matter."
"You need worry no longer, my girl," replied Harold. "But I must tell you again how plucky you were to try to save your friend in the way you did, and now let's forget all about it."
"Yes, dear," said Florence fondly. "We have pleasanter things to think of."
"'Tis true, my darling," he replied, taking both of her hands in his. "To-day you have made me the happiest man in the world. Do you know why I love you?"