“Not of that,” Grey said.  “But I sent for him, you know, and Aunt Lucy thought I was going to be good and join the church, but I only wanted him to tell me sure that grandpa was safe, and that you were good, as I used to think you were.  He never suspected I was inquiring about you, I brought it in so neat; but he said you were a martyr, a saint, an angel, and the best woman that ever lived, and I believed him, and love you so much, and pity you so much for all you must have suffered.  And, now, tell me about it.  Don’t omit a single detail.  I want to know it all.”

So she told him everything, and when the story was ended, he took her white face between his two hands, and kissing it tenderly, said: 

“Now, I am sure you are a saint, a martyr, an angel; but the martyrdom is over.  I shall take care of you, I will help you find Elizabeth Rogers or her heirs, and father shall not know.  I’ll go to Europe when I am a man, and inquire at every house in Carnarvon for Joel Rogers or his sister; and when I find the heirs, I will send the money to them, and they shall never know where it came from; and if there are shares in quarries and mines, I’ll manage that somehow.  I am to be a lawyer, you know, and I can find some kink which will work.”

How he comforted her with his cheery, hopeful words, and how fast the hours flew by until Tom came to take him back to Grey’s Park.  But Grey begged so hard to stay all night, that Hannah ventured to keep him, and Tom returned without him.

“I am not a bit afraid of the house now, and would as soon sleep in grandpa’s room as anywhere,” he said to Hannah, as they sat together in the evening, and then they talked of her future until Grey was old enough to take care of her, as he meant to do.

“Shall you stay here?” he asked, and Hannah replied: 

“I don’t know yet what I shall do, I shall let your father decide for me.”

“You might live with us in Boston,” Grey said.  “That would be jolly for me; but I don’t know how you and mother would hitch together, you are so unlike.  I wish I was big, and married, and then I know just where you would go.  But father will arrange it, I am sure.”

And three weeks later, when Burton came up from Boston after his son, he did arrange it for her.

“It is of no use,” he said to her.  “I have tried meeting and mingling with my friends, and I feel as if they saw on my face what is always in my mind, and if I stay in Boston I shall some day scream out to the public that my father was a murderer.  I could not help it, and I can understand now how Lucy was wrought upon to do what she did in church when they thought her crazy.  I shall be crazy, too, if I stay here, and I am going away.  Geraldine likes Europe, and so do I; and as I can leave my business as well as not, I shall shut up my house, and go abroad until I feel that I can look my fellowmen in the face.”

“And Grey?” Hannah asked, sorrowfully, knowing how dreary her life would be with him so far away.