He felt a sudden, almost painful pressure on his arm.
"Ah! Don't think that!" she pleaded, quickly. "But I was so sad—so despairingly sad!"
Raymond raised his eyes to her face.
"And now?" he half whispered.
"And now—thanks to you!—I am almost happy!"
"It makes me happy to hear you say so! Do you know," he went on, hitching up his chair in a confidential manner, "I felt the deepest sympathy for you from the first!"
"Really?" she smiled.
"It's a fact!" he declared, with an energetic nod. "From the start; for I was sure you were unhappy, and surer still that you should not have been unhappy. I wanted to console you—to tell you to pluck up your courage—to convince you that I was not only your counsel but your friend—a true and sincere friend!"
"If I had only known—if I had only known!" murmured the woman, with a sharp catch in her voice. It cost Raymond an effort to continue in his bright, boyish tones; but he succeeded.
"I made myself a promise that I would win your case for you," he went on; "that I would work it out with all my might! As you wouldn't give me your secret, I made up my mind I would guess it, and you see—I succeeded! I made the truth clear, and every heart in the court felt for you. Now you are free!—free to go to the son you love so dearly! Promise me," his voice trembled, "promise me that you will not forget me altogether!"