Was I right?

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

To my astonishment I found Evelyn sitting in her room busily at work, and looking quite calm and cheerful. I fancied she had been crying a little, but she welcomed me with a smile, and asked me if I had read Donald's letter. I told her that Sir William had wished me to do so, and then she asked me what I thought of it. I did not answer her directly, for I did not like to say what I really thought.

"I will tell you what I think of it," she said, "and I shall tell papa when I go downstairs. I think it is a shocking letter. I cannot think how Donald could ever write it! But May," she said, "please don't think I am troubling about it. I had given up loving Donald some time ago, ever since I found out that he was so very different to what I always thought he was; but I pitied him dreadfully. I thought he would be so miserable and wretched, and feel so guilty and ashamed when he thought about his having taken that money. I always pictured him wishing, oh, so much, that he had never done it, and trying very hard to save his money so that he might be able to pay it back again. But now, May, I can do neither; I can neither love him nor pity him; he does not deserve either love or pity, does he?"

"No, he does not," I said; "the only thing for which we can pity him is for his wickedness."

"Just think of his marrying a French girl," she said. "I wonder if it is the one who waited on us in the shop in Port Said. Well, I am glad he wrote that letter; it is far better to know what he really is. I can't think how I could be so much deceived in him. I am afraid I cannot read people's characters very well. But do not let us talk about him any more to-day, May; the trouble has quite gone, it has indeed, but I do not like to talk about it; let us speak of something else."

Sir William was very much relieved to find that Evelyn was in good spirits, and that she took his view of Donald Trafford's conduct. He was still very much ruffled and annoyed by the letter, and was, in consequence, fidgety and impatient with the world in general all day. Not liking to speak about his nephew for fear of distressing Evelyn, he gave vent, instead, to his feelings about Mr. Stanley's disappearance.

"Mr. Stanley evidently did not intend to write now," he said; "it was one of the strangest things he knew, his going off in that way. It just proved what he had always heard, that it does not do to make friends with people whom you meet whilst travelling. It is impossible to tell what they are, and you may be imposed upon to any extent."

"Oh, papa," said Evelyn, "what do you mean? Surely you do not mean that Air. Stanley imposed upon us?"

"Well, I don't say that he did," said Six William; "but I say that we don't know that he did not. You must confess that it was a very suspicious thing his disappearing so suddenly, and never giving us a hint as to where he was going. I don't like it at all."

I longed to speak, but I felt as if I could hardly trust myself to do so, for I might have said more than I intended, if I had opened my lips. So I left the defence to Evelyn, and she took it up indignantly.

"It is really too bad, papa," she said, "to speak of Mr. Stanley in that way! I think he is one of the nicest and best men I have ever seen."