“Not a word for these three months. We have scarcely seen her for many weeks past; and then she merely showed us what long letters you wrote her.”
“And they were all written for you! She told me, the last time I was here, that she could keep nothing from you: and, relying upon her words, I have supposed this to be a medium of communication between us throughout. I could have no other, you know. When did my mother leave off reading my letters to you?”
“From the week you went away last. Mrs Rowland came in while we were in the midst of one; and the consequence was—”
“That you have been in the dark about me ever since. You saw that I did write?”
“Yes. I have seen most of the post-marks—and the interiors—upside down. But Mrs Rowland was always there—or else Phoebe.”
“And have you really known nothing about me whatever?”
“Little George told me that you had lessons to learn, very hard and very long, and, if possible, more difficult than his.”
“And did not you see then that I was acting upon your views?”
“I supposed Miss Bruce might have had them first.”
“Miss Bruce!” he cried, in a tone of annoyance. “I know nothing of Miss Bruce’s views on any subject. I cannot conceive how my sister got such a notion into her head—why she selected her.”