“I am doing so; only you must give me time. Rupert wanted the money, and I was distracted. Leslie and I were roomfellows; she was always good to me.”
“A nice return you have made for her kindness.”
“I know that well; but you cannot understand the temptation. There, I don’t mean to excuse myself. On the very evening when I saw Rupert, and found out all about his trouble, Leslie talked about you. I was so startled to find that she also knew you. She told me what you were doing for her, how liberal you were with your money, how very kind. She said that her father had been your greatest friend, and that you had made a sort of promise to help his children. As she spoke, a desperate idea came into my head. I was always very clever at imitating handwriting, and there was plenty of Leslie’s about. The idea of making her appear to write to you for money came into my brain, and would not go away again. I thought of it all night, and the scheme seemed almost impossible to be detected, and was my last and only resource. I rose very early, got hold of some of Leslie’s handwriting, copied it carefully, wrote the letter which I
brought to you, got permission to go to London from Miss Lauderdale, and saw you that afternoon. You gave me the money. I took it back. I gave it to Rupert.”
“But even now I do not understand,” said Mr. Parker. “I came down to Wingfield the next day. I was very much disturbed, I can tell you. That letter, which seemed to be Leslie’s, shook my faith. I always considered her the finest, sweetest girl I had ever come across, like, very like, one whom I have lost; but no matter, you are unworthy to hear that name. I came to Wingfield, and I saw Leslie, and she knew all about it; she did not deny anything.”
“That is because she was noble. I was obliged to tell her the truth, and she resolved to screen me and take the consequences.”
“’Pon my word! I never heard anything like this in the whole course of my life,” said Mr. Parker. “Noble! I should think she was; but what were you made of? You allowed her! Think what she suffered. I distrusted her, and you allowed her to screen you.”
“I did, for Rupert’s sake. I know I was bad, but I was not wholly bad. She knew that if it were discovered I should be expelled from St. Wode’s, and my chance in life would be over, so she agreed to screen me. I didn’t guess at the time how much she would suffer, and what it would mean to her. Leslie saw Rupert and told him that if he would leave the country, and never return, she would keep his secret and mine. Rupert promised to go away. He went, and I thought I should never see him again. Then I lost my interest in my work. I found I could not study; and when I passed my exam. I only took an ordinary, and my prospects were more or less ruined. I was terribly poor, for the little money that I had saved I had already given to my brother. When my own money
was nearly gone I went to Leslie; that was a few days ago. I heard that you wanted a secretary, and I begged and implored of her to ask you to give me the post. Leslie did not like asking you. She said you were terribly changed to her; but at last she consented. She came here with me. You told her that if she told the real truth about the money you would give me the post. How could she tell you the truth without ruining me? We both knew it was all up then, although she implored me at the eleventh hour to make confession; but I could not—how could I without ruining Rupert?”
“You conscience has become very tender since then,” said Mr. Parker. “How is it you are here this morning?”