He followed her into the room; there was no one in it. Maude closed the door, and spoke in a gentle whisper.
"May I tell Aunt Edith?"
George looked dubious. "That is a serious question, Maude."
"It would give her renewed life," returned Maude, her tone intensely earnest. "George, if this suspense is to continue, she will sink under it. It was very, very bad for me to bear, and I am young and strong. I fear, too, that my aunt gets the dreadful doubt upon her now and then whether—whether—what was said of Mr. Chattaway is not true; and Rupert was killed that night. Oh, let me tell her!"
"Maude, I should be glad for her to know it. My only doubt is, whether she would dare keep the secret from her husband, Rupert being actually within the precincts of the Hold."
"She can be braver in Rupert's cause than you imagine. I am sure that she will be as safe as you or I."
"Then let us tell her."
Maude's eyes grew bright with gladness. Taking all circumstances into view, there was not much cause for congratulation; but, compared with what had been, it seemed as joy to Maude, and her heart grew light.
"I shall never repay you, George," she cried, with enthusiasm, lifting her eyes gratefully to his.
George laughed, and made a prisoner of her. "I can repay myself, Maude."