'Because, Captain Fotheringhame, I thought it right to do so.'
She was gazing at him now steadily and defiantly.
'Had you read that letter it would have explained all.'
'Who the mysterious "F.F." is, or was.'
'Yes,' said he sadly, with a peculiar inflection of voice.
'Enough of this,' said Annabelle, haughtily; 'I leave you and all your interests to the—the lady whose likeness is in your valued locket.'
'You do? If I have been guilty of aught, in your eyes, you will certainly forgive me when you look upon her face.'
'Your intended! permit me to pass, Captain Fotheringhame—surely I have been subjected to mockery and insult enough to satisfy even you!'
With tender and observant eyes, Leslie Fotheringhame was watching her soft features, and saw them all quiver over, as if with a sudden pang, and his heart was moved, for a lovely face was hers. With much of reverential tenderness he detached the locket from his chain, opened it, and then Annabelle beheld a likeness of herself—simply a finely coloured photo, forgotten by her, but evidently treasured by him.
Annabelle was startled on seeing this, but not disconcerted.