"What am I to do with you, Christian? You make me unhappy by your present attitude. Is it possible that you will not confide in me? What can I do to make you give me your confidence?"
"I can never give you my confidence. The only thing you can do—the only really kind thing—is to let me alone. I am not a good girl any longer, and I am a coward; and I will not tell, for it isn't in me to do anything brave or noble."
"Then you are very unlike your grandmother."
"I am sorry for poor—father. Miss Peacock, I daren't stay another minute."
Christian struggled to get away, but Miss Peacock drew her still closer.
"Some day," she said, "you may feel like telling me. When that day comes I will give you my careful attention—my undivided attention—and my most lenient judgment. Do you understand?"
"Yes; you are good."
"If your trouble becomes unbearable you will know, therefore, whom to appeal to."
"Oh, you are very good!"
"I see you will say no more now. Well, good-night, dear; I can at least pray for you."