"No, Laurence is going into Judge Baxter's office, and we're going to live at the Judge's house, for the present."
"I see," said Hilary, in a trembling voice.
"At first Laurence wanted to go away, to start somewhere else, but I persuaded him to stay here," Mary went on. "I didn't want to go to a strange place. All I care about is here. I don't want to go away from you, Mr. Robertson, I depend on you—"
Hilary pushed back his chair sharply, then, controlling himself, folded his arms tight across his breast. His back was to the light which fell on Mary's face, raised toward him with a look of humility that perhaps no one but he ever saw there.
"You've taught me so much, and helped me to see.... Before I knew you, I didn't know anything about life, how one should live.... You're so strong, so good...."
"I am?... You know very little about it, Mary. Don't say that sort of thing, please."
"Oh, it's just because you don't think you are that you're so wonderful—"
Hilary looked into her eyes bright and liquid with feeling, and said to himself that he must keep this faith, he must not disturb it by a look, a word—or his hold on her would be gone. He said abruptly:
"Your mother has talked to me. She thinks—as you say, she doesn't trust—Captain Carlin. She thinks he is irreligious and unsteady—and with a bad inheritance. She is troubled about you, she thinks you are marrying just because you gave your word, years ago, and don't like to break it.... Is it so, Mary?"
In spite of himself, this question was a demand. Mary looked startled.