Could she trust him with the secret of Miss Margaret's letters? The habit of secretiveness was too strong upon her. "There is no one here to help me—unless YOU would sometimes," she timidly answered.
"I am at your service always. Nothing could give me greater pleasure."
"Thank you." Her face flushed with delight.
"You have, of course, been a pupil at William Penn?" he asked.
"Yes, but father took me out of school when I was twelve. Ever since then I've been trying to educate myself, but—" she lifted troubled eyes to his face, "no one here knows it but the doctor. No one must know it."
"Trust me," he nodded. "But why must they not know it?"
"Father would stop it if he found it out."
"Why?"
"He wouldn't leave me waste the time."
"You have had courage—to have struggled against such odds."