"He promised to write, and I promised to write to him."
What a revelation was in the banker's words! Could it be her cousin had two sides? If it was so, where did the insincerity end? This was a miserable discovery after she had lifted him up in her mind as a perfect model of what a man should be.
"Of course you will write to your guardian and your only cousin; but mind you are not to say anything about what I have been saying to you. I should not mind speaking of it to him in your presence, but a thing of that kind in black and white looks very bad. Have you heard from him yet?"
"Yes; I got a note saying he was about to set off. It was written yesterday."
Her face looked wan and weary. It was disenchanting to hear all this of Cousin William. How could it be?
"A bad sign. A very bad sign," thought the banker. "But we must be a match for him. We must be a match for him. No precaution shall be neglected." Then he said aloud: "I shall be very often at the Castle now; for not only shall I have to come and see you, but I am also to look after the workmen for Sir William, so that I fear you will have to make up your mind to endure a great deal of me."
"I shall be very glad to see you every day. But I think you are doing too much for me—for us."
"Miss Midharst, you must understand once for all that there is absolutely nothing in my power I am not anxious to do for you personally."
He said this with great emphasis and precision, raising his right hand slightly towards the ceiling while he spoke, as though calling Heaven to witness his words.
She did not know what to say. There was an earnestness in his manner forbidding commonplace thanks.