"No," he said quietly. "It's very wonderful! When I was with her just now she was quite cheerful and happy. Even yet she does not know all the truth. Of course, she'll have to know it some day, but we will keep it from her as long as we can. But I do not quite understand the look in her eyes, all the same! She seemed as though she were expecting some one."
"I think I know whom she expects."
"You mean your father?" replied Paul. Even yet he was unable to speak of Judge Bolitho as his own father.
"Yes, I believe she is wondering why he has not come."
"I think I rather wonder, too," said Paul. "You see, he left us directly after I was—after—after the truth was made known, and I've heard nothing from him since. Have you, Mary?"
"No," said the girl. "I've heard nothing. I think he went to London. You see, as far as you're concerned, there are heaps of formalities to be complied with!"
"Yes, yes, I know!" said Paul almost hastily. It seemed as though he wanted to drive the whole terrible thing from his mind.
"Mary," said Paul at length, "have you ever spoken with your father about the past?"
"No," she replied, "never. I was afraid; I don't know why. Once or twice he seemed to be trying to broach the subject, but there was such an awful look in his eyes that I could not bear to hear him speak about it. Besides, I had no time to think about myself! How could I, when, when—— But you know, Paul!"
It was very wonderful to him to be sitting alone in his own house with Mary in this way. Sometimes he thought he was in a dream, and that he would wake up presently to find all the wild, ghastly realities come to him. But it was no dream. The hundreds of telegrams which came to him expressing delight at the proof of his innocence, and the innumerable messages of goodwill which constantly reached him, made all his black fancies impossible.