As they passed out into the street again, Frederic said to him rather abruptly, “Do you know Sarah Green?”
“No,” answered Ben, and Frederic continued,
“Do you know Mrs. Merton?”
Ben started a little, and then repeating the name replied, “Ain’t acquainted with that name neither. Who is she?”
“She took care of me,” returned Frederic, “and I would like to find her, and thank her for her kindness.”
“I shouldn’t s’pose she could of took care of you alone, sick as you was,” said Ben, waiting eagerly for the answer, which, had it been what he desired, might lead to the unfolding of the mystery.
But Frederic shrank from making Ben his confidant.
“It was hard for her till Miss Huntington came.”
“Blast Miss Huntington,” thought Ben, now thoroughly satisfied that his companion did not care to discover Marian, or he would certainly say something about her.
Both she and his mother were sure that he knew she had been with him in his sickness, and if he really wished to find her he would speak of her as well as of Mrs. Merton.