"Is not worry sometimes worse than illness?" she continued.
"I have no doubt of it, Miss Emerson," I replied. "But Mr. Marston is not in any grave difficulty, I hope?"
She made no answer to this, but startled me by asking the following question:
"Tell me," she said, "would one be justified if, for the purpose of preventing a great wrong, and upsetting a wicked design, one were to betray a secret?"
"What do you mean, Miss Emerson? Without learning more, I scarcely know how to answer you."
"Then come back here in half an hour and I may be able to tell you something of great importance!" she said, and then ran into the house.
This short conversation stunned me. I wondered whether the mystery surrounding Santorin would now be cleared up! The suspense, although of short duration, was exceedingly painful. At last the much-wished-for figure advanced across the lawn.
"I have consulted my aunt," she said hurriedly, scarcely able to speak with excitement, "and she agrees with me that you, who have been so kind to us all, should be instantly informed that there is something seriously wrong going on in this house, and it affects you as well as my uncle!"
"Yon don't mean to tell me so, Miss Emerson?" I replied, with some anxiety.