“What is the matter, child?”

“Something that concerns only myself.”

“Are you unwilling to trust me with your secret, whatever it may be?  I would sooner find betrayal from the grinning skeletons in monastic crypts than from my lips.”

Smothering a sigh, she shook her head impatiently.

“That means that red-hot steel could not pinch it out of you; and that, despite your boasted charity and love of humanity, you really entertain as little confidence in your race as it is my pleasure to indulge.  I applaud your wisdom, but certainly did not credit you with so much craftiness.  My reason for not delivering the parcel more promptly was simply the wish to screen you from the Argus scrutiny with which we are both favored by some now resident at Bocage.  As your letters subjected you to suspicion, I presumed it would be more agreeable to you to receive them without witnesses.”

He took a letter from his pocket and gave it to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Murray; you are very kind.”

“Pardon me! that is indeed a novel accusation!  Kind, I never professed to be.  I am simply not quite a brute, nor altogether a devil of the most malicious and vindictive variety, as you doubtless consider it your religious duty to believe.  However, having hopelessly lost my character, I shall not trespass on your precious time by wasting words in pronouncing a eulogy upon it, as Antony did over the stabbed corpse of Caesar!  I stand in much the same relation to society that King John did to Christendom, when Innocent III. excommunicated him; only I snap my fingers in the face of my pontiff, the world, and jingle my Peter-pence in my pocket; whereas poor John’s knees quaked until he found himself at the feet of Innocent, meekly receiving Langton, and paying tribute!  Child, you are in trouble; and your truthful countenance reveals it as unmistakably as did the Phrygian reeds that babbled of the personal beauties of Midas.  Of course, it does not concern me—­it is not my business—­and you certainly have as good a right as any other child of Adam, to fret and cry and pout over your girlish griefs, to sit up all night, ruin your eyes, and grow rapidly and prematurely old and ugly.  But whenever I chance to stumble over a wounded creature trying to drag itself out of sight, I generally either wring its neck, or set my heel on it, to end its torment; or else, if there is a fair prospect of the injury healing by ‘first intention,’ I take it gently on the tip of my boot, and help it out of my way.  Something has hurt you, and I suspect I can aid you.  Your anxiety about those letters proves that you doubt your idol.  You and your lover have quarreled?  Be frank with me; tell me his name, and I swear upon the honor of a gentleman I will rectify the trouble—­will bring him in contrition to your feet.”

Whether he dealt in irony, as was his habit, or really meant what he said, she was unable to determine; and her quick glance at his countenance showed her only a dangerous sparkle in his eyes.