She interrupted him. "I know what you mean. But I tell you truly, Hugh, I had not been walking with him, nor did I know he was by the stone wall looking after me, as you say."
"And you had not seen him?" Hugh asked, now beginning to appear more like himself, and bending his smiling face down to look at her.
But the smile vanished, as he met her faltering eyes.
"Don't tell me, Dot, if you'd sooner not; only know that you can trust me, if you will, and I'll never fail you,—never!"
These words, and the way they were spoken, settled all her doubts, and clasping her other hand over his, that still held her own, she burst forth impetuously: "Oh, I will tell you, Hugh. Only you'll promise me that you'll never tell of it, not even to Jack."
The young man hesitated, but only for a second, as the sweet prospect of a secret between them—one to be shared by no other, not even her idolized brother—swept away all other thoughts.
"I promise that I'll tell no one, Dot,—not even Jack."
He spoke slowly and guardedly, the better to hide the mad beating of his heart, and the effort he was making to restrain himself from taking her in his arms and telling her what she was to him.
Dorothy uttered a little sigh, as if greatly relieved. Then she said with an air of perfect frankness: "Well, Hugh, I did see him—up in the wood, as I was coming from old Ruth's. He spoke to me, and I ran away from him."
"What did he say?" Hugh demanded quickly.