She remembered them; had she ever forgotten one word said to her on that eventful night? and sighed as she replied:
"This money is mine. I enjoyed, as you know, a most liberal salary for seven or eight-and-twenty years; and the money, as it came in, was placed out from the first to good interest; later, a part of it to good use. Lady Dewsbury also bequeathed me a munificent sum by her will; so that altogether I am worth——"
His excessive surprise could not let her continue. That Mildred had saved just sufficient to live upon, he had deemed probable; but not more. She had been always assisting Peter. He interrupted her with words to this effect.
Mildred smiled. "I could place at your disposal twelve thousand pounds, if needs must," she said. "I had a friend who helped me to lay out my money to advantage. It was Mr. Dundyke. William, how can I better use part of this money than by serving you?"
William Arkell shook his head in deprecation. Not all at once, in the suddenness of the surprise, could he accept the idea of being assisted by Mildred. Peter had taken enough from her.
"Peter did not take enough from me," she firmly said. "It is only since Peter's death that I have learnt how straitened he always was—he kept it from me. I have been taking great blame to myself, for it seems to me that I ought to have guessed it—and I did not. But Peter is gone, and you are left. Oh, William, let me help you!"
"Mildred, I have no right to it from you."
She laid her hand upon his arm in her eagerness. She bent her gentle face, with its still sweet expression, near to him, and spoke in a whisper.
"Let me help you. It will be a recompense for the past pain of my lonely life."
His eyes looked straight into hers for the moment. "I have had my pain, too, Mildred."