'Yes, dear, I have; a great deal.'
'I am so thankful that you and you only were present.' She paused a few moments, and I tried to help her.
'I think that there is no doubt—you have a sister, and that the packet, which I have taken care of, is intended for her, Lilian.' Taking it from my desk, I shewed her the words on it in her father's handwriting: 'Quarter's allowance due 24th for Marian;' with an address, 'Mrs Pratt, Green Street, Islington.'
'Marian! Yes; that was the name,' she murmured.
'I have since found out that she was born three or four years before Mr Farrar was married to your mother, Lilian.'
A bright hope sprang to her eyes. 'Perhaps he was married before, Mary?'
'I do not think that is likely, or it would be known. But I know you will none the less do what is just and right.'
'I shall all the more do what is right—I owe her so much more. If wrong has been done, it is for me to make what reparation I can. And—Mary, try to always remember how anxious he was to'—— She broke down; an expression in her face which shewed how deep was the wound which her loving, sensitive nature had received. Her grief was so much the harder to bear, for the knowledge that her dead was less perfect than she had believed him to be. She was already obliged to plead for him.
I knew that fragile as she looked, and tender and yielding as she had hitherto seemed, it arose more from humility at finding herself blessed as ordinary mortals rarely are, than from any lack of strength. We had not seen the best of Lilian Farrar yet. Least of all, did her lover know her. Already I could have given a better reason for loving her than he could have done.