“I’ll ask you to remember that I know nothing about you, and yet I’ve trusted you, though you haven’t been punctilious in repaying my trust. Therefore I see no reason why you should feel free to complain that I know nothing about my aunt, who has had me fed and clothed and educated all my life! I ask myself why it is you should try to turn me against my aunt, who has been always sweet and always kind; why you should say I know nothing about her. If you’ll think a moment, you’ll see that I know her brother was an officer in a great French regiment, the regiment of Béarn. I know she loved and honored him. I know she was kind to me: kinder than anyone. What more is there for me to know? Do you, perhaps, know more than that about your mother?”

I touched her arm again: felt for her hand and took it in mine. It was clenched and, in spite of the warmth of the evening, cold. “Ellen, you don’t understand. I’ve heard things—–”

She freed her hand carefully. “Heard! You’ve heard things! I understand the things you’ve heard have not been reliable. I understand that if you wished to learn about my aunt, you’d listen to me, who know better what she is than anyone alive! But you won’t listen to me! You try to poison my mind against her! You try to poison your brother’s mind against her! And I think I understand even more! I think I know why you want to cast suspicion on her! I think I know why!”

“You think you know why?” I was stunned and laughed harshly. “I see. You mean I’m jealous of her as a man might be jealous of his mother-in-law.”

It was a shot that told; there was silence for a moment. Then she said huskily, “Well, you promised to send me to Albany. Will you send me?”

“No,” I said, “I can’t. It’s—well, it’s not safe. Ellen, I want you to listen—–”

There was the sound of a light thump, and the click of a latch.

I felt for her in the darkness, but found only the weather-beaten wood of the door she had closed in my face.

“Ellen,” I called. “Come back, Ellen!”

I held my breath and listened. Beyond the closed door I thought I heard faint footsteps, mounting a stair. I ran to the kitchen window. It was dark.

“Ellen!” I called again. “Ellen!” I stood there and stood there, straining my senses for a sound or a sign, but found neither. My lips were dry, and my back drenched with perspiration from the discomfort of my thoughts.