"And you have permitted him to masquerade—to be received by your friends—to enter their houses?—Oh, Dick!"
"Your criticism may be just," he said. "And I be wrong in my surmise. The fellow may be a rogue—but, somehow, I doubt it. In manners, and bearing, and address he is far superior to the real Sir Edward—and, also, in breeding, if I am any judge. If this be true, then he is of superior birth. Now, why should such a man be here, in disguise, and with his letters apparently regular. I do not know—but they do queer things in London. Besides, the Governor has accepted him. He must have been informed—and, if so, it is not for me to tear off the mask."
"But if he be an impostor—if he has stolen the letters, and the name?"
"That is scarcely probable; at any rate, I have given him the benefit of the doubt, and, thus far, he has deported himself perfectly—much better than Parkington could have done. For my part, I believe he is sent here for a purpose and is, in rank, very much above the one he personates."
She nodded her head, gravely.
"You know best," she said; "but, now, if ever you want to unmask him, you must lie. It would sound very well, indeed, for Richard Maynadier to say: 'I knew him, at once, for an impostor, but I let him fool you for a month (or two months, or three months, as the case may be), before I told.'"
"And for that very reason, I shall not tell," said he. "I am not my brother's keeper. I will look out for myself, and my friends, if need be, the rest may protect themselves, as best they can."
"Are the Marburys your friends?" she asked.
"Have the Marburys needed my protection, yet?"