"I? No, indeed! Why should I take the trouble to watch him?" cried Miss Canfield.
"What was to prevent his going into my room," Hatville inquired, "and taking the watch?"
"Nothing that I know of." The silvery accents faltered. "I don't know but I am to blame, Mr. Hatville!"
"Oh, no! It wasn't your business to watch strangers who gain admission to the house," said Hatville.
"But I did something which I see now was very indiscreet," Amy exclaimed. "It was growing quite dark in the passage, and I opened the door of your room to let in more light. I knew you were not there, and I had no idea your watch was. I am very sorry."
“ ‘SHAKE HIM,’ SAID MR. HATVILLE.”
"You are very frank," replied Hatville. "But don't blame yourself. Of course, you had no idea of putting temptation in the way of a rogue."
"No; and I can't believe he was a rogue—such a fine, honest-looking face as he had!" Amy exclaimed. "But I had no business to open your door."
Olly overheard this conversation with strangely mingled feelings of envy and remorse, of fear and guilt. How admirable was Amy's prompt confession of her fault, and how readily it was forgiven! Why couldn't he have had a little of her courage, owned his folly, and thrown himself upon Mr. Hatville's mercy! His implied denial had now cut him off from that only noble course; and he saw no way to disentangle the web in which he had involved both himself and his friend.