"Oh, May! I am so glad I told papa, so very glad; I am so much happier now."
"I was sure you would be, Evelyn dear," I said; "it is terrible to have a secret like that weighing on the mind."
"Yes," she said, "I am very glad I told him; but oh, May, he was so angry—not with me, not half enough with me; he would not see that it was my fault, but he was terribly angry with Donald."
"I do not think you can be surprised at that, Evelyn dear," I said; "I do not think Mr. Trafford behaved honourably, and Sir William is such an honourable man himself that he felt it very keenly."
"Yes, perhaps so," she said; "but I don't think Donald meant any harm. Poor Donald does not think before he does things; he—"
But I would not let Evelyn talk any more about it that night, but rang the bell for Clemence, and went with her to her bedroom.
She kissed me at the door, and as she said "good-night," she whispered:
"Papa has taken that ring, May; he says it must have cost at least £50, and he is sure Donald has no money to pay for it."
The next morning no one alluded to what had happened the night before; even when we were alone Evelyn did not seem inclined to speak of it, and I made every effort that I could to turn her thoughts into another channel.
Sir William spent most of that day in his private room writing letters, and we seldom saw him, but he was very tender and loving to Evelyn whenever he came into the room, and seemed anxious to make her feel how entirely he had forgiven her.