"He did," Arthur answered, "but was nearly as certain then as now that she would not fall into it. Miss Hastings, it gives me more pleasure than I can well express to find one female who is worthy to be trusted—who has no curiosity."
"But I have a heap of curiosity," returned Edith, laughingly. "I'm half crazy to know what that room is for and why you are so particular about it."
"Then you deserve more credit than I have given you," he replied, a dark shadow stealing over his handsome face.
Edith was about to ask him of the portrait in the drawing room, when he prevented her by making some playful allusion to the circumstances of their first acquaintance.
"I began to think you had forgotten me," said Edith, "though I knew you could not well forget the theft unjustly charged to me."
She hoped he would now speak of Nina, but he did not, and as she for the first time remembered Mr. Griswold, she said, after a moment's pause,
"I came near forgetting my principal errand here. I could have sent your keys, but I would rather deliver Mr. Griswold's message myself."
She expected Arthur to start, but she was not prepared for him to spring from his chair as suddenly as he did.
"Mr. Griswold!" he repeated. "Where did you see him? Has HE been here? What did he say? Tell me, Edith—Miss Hastings—I beg your pardon—tell me his errand."
He stood close to her now, and his eyes did not leave her face for an instant while she repeated the particulars of her interview with the stranger.