"You will never guess," said he; "and I shall never have the heart to tell you."
"Let me try. Well, I think you have run in debt, and are afraid to ask me for the money."
Griffith was greatly relieved by this conjecture; he drew a long breath; and, after a pause, said cunningly, "What made you think that?"
"Because you came here for money, and not for happiness. You told me so in the Grove."
"That is true. What a sordid wretch you must think me!"
"No, because you were under a delusion. But I do believe you are just the man to turn reckless, when you thought me false, and go drinking and dicing." She added eagerly, "I do not suspect you of anything worse."
He assured her that was not the way of it.
"Then tell me the way of it. You must not think, because I pester you not with questions, I have no curiosity. O, how often I have longed to be a bird, and watch you day and night unseen! How would you have liked that? I wish you had been one, to watch me. Ah, you don't answer. Could you have borne so close an inspection, sir?"
Griffith shuddered at the idea; and his eyes fell before the full gray orbs of his wife.
"Well, never mind," said she. "Tell me your story."