“Your father is absent,” I said abruptly.
“Yes,” she replied, with slight hesitation. “He has gone away on business. I don’t expect he will be back till to-night.”
“And how long do you remain here?”
“Who knows? Our movements are always so sudden and erratic. We may leave to-night for the other end of Europe, or we may remain here for weeks yet. Father is so uncertain always.”
“But why are you so eager that I shall leave you?” I asked, as we strolled together along the terrace. “You have admitted that you are in need of a friend, and yet you will not allow me to approach you with the open hand of friendship.”
“Because—ah! have I not already explained the reason why—why I dare not allow you to show undue friendship towards me?”
“Well, tell me frankly,” I said, “who is this secret enemy of mine?”
She was silent. In that hesitation I suspected an intention to deceive.
“Is it against your own father that you are warning me?” I exclaimed in hesitation. “You fear him, evidently, and you urge me to leave here and return to England. Why should I not remain here in defiance?”
“In some cases defiance is distinctly injudicious,” she remarked. “It is so in this. Your only safety is in escape. I can tell you no more.”