A long silence followed. Hilda was evidently deeply disappointed. From what Gualtier had said at the beginning of the interview, she had expected to hear something more definite. It seemed to her as though all his trouble had resulted in nothing. Still, she was not one to give way to disappointment, and she had too much good sense to show herself either ungrateful or ungracious.
"Your conclusions are, no doubt, correct," said she at last, in a pleasanter tone than she had yet assumed; "but they are only inferences, and can not be made use of--in the practical way in which I hoped they would be. We are still in the attitude of inquirers, you see. The secret which we hold is of such a character that we have to keep it to ourselves until it be confirmed."
Gualtier's face lighted up with pleasure as Hilda thus identified him with herself, and classed him with her as the sharer of the secret.
"Any thing," said he, eagerly--"any thing that I can do, I will do. I hope you know that you have only to say the word--"
Hilda waved her hand.
"I trust you," said she. "The time will come when you will have something to do. But just now I must wait, and attend upon circumstances. There are many things in my mind which I will not tell you--that is to say, not yet. But when the time comes, I promise to tell you. You may be interested in my plans--or you may not. I will suppose that you are."
"Can you doubt it, Miss Krieff?"
"No, I do not doubt it, and I promise you my confidence when any thing further arises."
"Can I be of no assistance now--in advising, or in counseling?" asked Gualtier, in a hesitating voice.
"No--whatever half-formed plans I may have relate to people and to things which are altogether outside of your sphere, and so you could do nothing in the way of counseling or advising."