"You won't say anything about it?" she said, piteously. "Oh, please don't say anything about it! I am so sorry you overheard. Oh, Miss Danton, you won't tell?"
"Certainly not," answered Kate, startled by her emotion. "I merely thought he might be the friend you came in search of."
"Oh, no, no! Doctor Danton has been my friend; I owe him more than I can ever repay. He is the best, and noblest, and most generous of men. He was my friend when I had no friend in the world—when, but for him, I might have died. But he is not the one I came to seek."
"I beg your pardon," said Kate, going back to her chair. "I have asked too many questions."
"No, no! You have a right to ask me, but I cannot tell. I am not very old, but my heart is nearly broken."
She dropped her work, covered her face with her slender hands, and broke out into a fit of passionate crying. Kate was beside her in a moment, soothing her, caressing her, as if she had been her sister.
"I am sorry, I am sorry," she said; "it is all my fault. Don't cry, Agnes; I will go now; you will feel better alone."
She stooped and kissed her. Agnes looked up in grateful surprise, but Miss Danton was gone. She ran down stairs and stood looking out of the drawing-room window, at the sunlit, wintry landscape.
So Doctor Frank was a hero after all, and not a villain. He had nothing to do with this pale little girl's trouble. He was only her best friend and wanted to hide it.
"People generally like their good deeds to be known," mused Miss Danton. "They want their right hand to see all that their left hand gives. Is Doctor Frank a little better than the rest of mankind? I know he attends the sick poor of St. Croix for nothing, and I know he is very pleasant, and a gentleman. Is he that modern wonder, a good man, besides?"