"I hope I do not disturb you, gentlemen," she said, in a gentle voice and with a wan smile.
"Not in the least," said Mr. Paulton. "Will you not take a chair?"
"Thank you, no. I am going out."
"Going out! May not some one go for you--one of my daughters or one of the servants?"
"You are very good; but I must go myself. I have just been explaining to Mrs. Paulton. I have come, Mr. Paulton, to thank you for your great kindness to me, a complete stranger. Believe me, I shall never forget it--never as long as I live. If a friend in need is a friend indeed, you have been a great friend; for I never wanted a friend more than I did this morning. I have come to thank you and to say good-bye."
"Good-bye!" he cried in astonishment. "Why should you leave us?"
His surprise was not feigned.
"Since you were kind enough to give me shelter, a serious difference has arisen in my position. When I came into your house I believed that there would be no unusual trouble about my poor husband's death. Now I understand in that I was mistaken. It would be monstrous on my part to involve you, Mr. Paulton, in any way in this unpleasantness, and it will be best for me to be alone."
She spoke with perfect composure, and Pringle could scarcely believe that this calm, collected woman, with the wan smile and resigned air, was the one who, a little while ago, had spoken impassioned words of despair.
Mr. Paulton was disturbed by this sudden and unexpected prospect of deliverance. There could be no doubt of the woman's sincerity. Here she was, without a suggestion from any one, offering to take the very step he desired. It was necessary to say something, and kind-hearted as he was, a polite lie was a sin utterly beneath him. He felt extremely awkward.