"I am not inquisitive; and I depend upon your discretion."
"Then, will you deliver this letter immediately?"
His countenance changed. Ida lifted her finger.
"I have promised," he replied; "but Ida—if you were my sister, I would not be the bearer of this!"
"Charley!"
"I do not say it to hurt your feelings, but I know men, and this man, better than you do. This is not your handwriting. My fear is that you may be tampered with—not your integrity—but that designing people may impose upon your credulity."
"I thank you sincerely for your consideration, but I act with my eyes open, and conscientiously believe that what I demand is actually necessary. I dictated that note. Will you oblige me now?"
"Unhesitatingly."
"Be sure you give it, at once, to him. I cannot explain, I may never do it, perhaps. One thing more. Where does Mr. Copeland want you to go? and when?"
"To the country, to-morrow; a tête-à-tête drive out of town; a dinner at a tavern; and spend the day in the woods, gunning."