Helen tried to look as joyful as the approach of her only relative might be expected to make her; but the thought of the deception which she was even then practising towards a family who were showing her great kindness, and the still greater wrong which she was required to do them, made it a difficult task for one no better versed in dissimulation.
Mrs. Gregory noticed it no further than to form the opinion that she was a little odd in her manners.
As Helen expected, Armstrong requested her to walk a little apart with him; and then, dropping at once the whining tone he had assumed, inquired, quickly and peremptorily,—
“Well, what have you discovered?”
“Nothing,” said Helen, timidly, and as if deprecating his anger.
“Nothing?” he echoed, his eyes lighting with indignation. “What am I to understand by that?
“Come, child,” said he, softening his tone, as he saw that she was terrified by his roughness, “I don’t mean you any harm; but the fact is, I have placed you here to help me, and help me you must, otherwise I shall be compelled to carry you back to live with me in New York. Perhaps you would like to go?”
“Oh, no, no!” said Helen. “Don’t carry me back! Let me stay here!”
“Well, so I will, if you behave well. Now, tell me truly, have you no idea where they keep the silver? I know they have a large quantity of it.”