She thought upon it for a little while, and then exclaimed, as though she read his thoughts—
“My husband will be very grateful to Mr. North.”
The idea amused him. She could hear him chuckling to himself.
“Will be grateful, young lady?” he asked presently—“you said grateful?”
“And why not?”
“No reason at all. We are always grateful when the man who knocks us down is the very good friend of our wife. Would not you be under the circumstances?”
Never, until that moment, had there come to her the thought that Edmond might not understand the circumstances which had compelled her to seek Brandon’s friendship. She sat debating it very silently. She would not believe that her companion’s words were aught but a jest; and yet, as the cart jogged on, a sense of unrest and foreboding displaced the content with which she had quitted Wörth. If Edmond should not think as she did! If he should hold that war had made that friendship impossible! She blamed herself that she had not thought of it before.
“Of course he will understand,” she said, rather as one uttering her thoughts aloud. “They were old friends in Strasburg. And he will know why I went to the camp. I shall tell him all about it when he comes back to Strasburg.”
“Tell him nothing, child. A tale untold is not to be criticised. There is always the off-chance. I am an old man and have the right to advise you. Go to your friends in Strasburg and keep your own secrets. Too much confidence has ruined many a man, and woman too. Your husband will know nothing unless you tell him. Why should you make him unhappy?”