“Victoria,” she said.
He felt himself tremble at the name,—at the strangeness of its sound on Euphrasia's lips.
“I do not expect to see Miss Flint,” he answered, controlling himself as well as he was able. “I have an errand for the Judge with Mr. Flint himself.”
Euphrasia had guessed his secret! But how?
“Hadn't you better see her?” said Euphrasia, in a curious monotone.
“But I have no errand with her,” he objected, mystified yet excited by Euphrasia's manner.
“She fetched Hilary home,” said Euphrasia.
“Yes.”
“She couldn't have be'n kinder if she was his own daughter.”
“I know—” he began, but Euphrasia interrupted.