“Yes. I have come to you on that account, for you can help me. I went to your house this morning and heard you were out. It was of the most vital importance that I should see you, so I got your address from your mother. She was unwilling to give it to me at first, for she said you were staying in a house of illness; but I begged so hard that at last she gave way, and here I am.”
“Well. What is it?” asked Leslie. Her tone was still icy-cold, and the want of sympathy in her eyes caused Annie’s dark red-brown ones to flash angrily.
“Oh, you are one of those dreadfully Puritan, goody-goody people,” she said, “who always hate an unfortunate sinner. I would not like you to be my judge at the Great Assize.”
“You must not talk to me in that tone,” said Leslie, stung in her turn. “You know what you have done. You have changed all my life.”
“You don’t mean to say you are still fretting over that matter. What can it signify to you whether Mr. Parker thinks badly of you or not. Just consider for a moment what would have happened if you had betrayed me that time.”
“It might have been the better for me and for you too if I had spoken the truth,” said Leslie. “I am sometimes inclined to believe that I did wrong to shield you.”
“Wrong to shield me! Why, I should have been expelled, ruined; absolutely ruined for life.”
“But I should not be feeling as bitter as I now do.”
“You would have been so miserable you would not have cared to live,” said Annie, with conviction. “But, now, don’t let us hark back on that affair. I want you to do something for me, and at once. Can you possibly come out with me? I want you to come with me to Mr. Parker.”
“To Mr. Parker, and with you? No, Annie; that I cannot do.”