"No, I don't know anything that is going to clear your brother. But I have a confidence which I feel sure is going to mean a victory. I can't say anything more. But it is a long time yet to the trial."
She seemed to shiver a little at the word, and withdrew her eyes. I waited for a moment, thinking that if she had any special anxiety on her mind she would of necessity betray it if left to herself, but when she spoke it was on a totally different matter.
"You are going away?" It was a statement rather than a question.
"What makes you think that?" I parried. I had indeed a very definite intention of going away, but I hadn't mentioned it to anyone, and I didn't care to have my plans known.
"Why, I thought you would probably go to hunt up Mr. Clyde. When you find him, I wish you would give him this." And she handed me an old letter in a faded envelope.
"But you are quite likely to see Mr. Clyde as soon as I do," I protested.
"I'd rather you had it," she said vaguely. "There is no hurry. Sometime he would like to have it. It is an old letter that my father wrote to my mother many years ago. He mentions Mr. Clyde in it, and says nice things about him, so I thought he might like to keep it."
"I am sure he would," I said warmly. "You are a dear little girl to think of it. And if you really want me to take charge of it, I will. I shall probably see Mr. Clyde sometime, or at least hear from him. But I shall be jealous of Mr. Clyde pretty soon. Here you give me an interesting letter, to be handed on to Mr. Clyde. And Miss Thurston gives me a lovely thick letter--but not for me at all, only for me to hand to Mr. Clyde. Happy Mr. Clyde!"
She listened with an uncertain smile and wistful eyes, as though she were holding back some brooding thought. There was something odd in her manner that half worried me.
"I have something for you, too," she said after a moment. "I have been looking through an old trunk of keepsakes that I keep at Uncle Howard's,--things that belonged to my mother, mostly,--letters and presents from my father, and all marked. She had kept that letter because it was written on her birthday, once, when he was away from home. And then--" he hesitated a moment, and then extended the package to me,--"this is for you, if you will please take it, as a keepsake."