Anna felt almost cheerful now. She had told the whole truth, and her gracious lady did not seem so very angry after all.
“They were brought,” she went on eagerly, “by a very nice gentleman. He asked me for a safe place to keep them, and I showed him the cupboard behind my bed. He helped me to bring them in.”
“Was that the man who came for them this morning?” asked Mrs. Guthrie.
Anna shook her head. “Oh no!” she exclaimed. “The other gentleman was a gentleman. He wrote me a letter first, but when he came he asked me to give it him back. So of course I did so.”
“Did he give you any idea of what he had brought you to keep?” asked Mrs. Guthrie. “Now, Anna, I beg—I implore you to tell me the truth!”
“The truth will I willingly tell!” Yes, Anna was feeling really better now. She had confessed the one thing which had always been on her conscience—her deceit towards her kind mistress. “He said they were chemicals, a new wonderful invention, which I must take great care of as they were fragile.”
“I suppose he was a German?” said Mrs. Guthrie slowly.
“Yes, he was a German, naturally, being the superior of Willi. But the man who came to-day was no German.”
“And during all that time—three years is a long time, Anna—did you never hear from him?” asked Mrs. Guthrie slowly.
It had suddenly come over her with a feeling of repugnance and pain, that old Anna had kept her secret very closely.