But you must teach me to behave like the girls you have seen in London,--for I could not bear that Sir Philip should think me wicked!" "Wicked!" and Lorimer drew a long breath.

"Good heavens! If you knew what Phil's ideas about you are, Miss Gueldmar--" "I do not wish to know," interrupted Thelma steadily.

"You must quite understand me,--I am not clever to hide my thoughts, and--and--, _you_ are glad when you talk sometimes to Sir Philip, are you not ?" He nodded, gravely studying every light and shadow on the fair, upturned, innocent face.
"Yes!" she continued with some eagerness, "I see you are! Well, it is the same with me,--I do love to hear him speak! You know how his voice is like music, and how his kind ways warm the heart,--it is pleasant to be in his company--I am sure you also find it so! But for me,--it seems it is wrong,--it is not wise for me to show when I am happy.

I do not care what other people say,--but I would not have _him_ think ill of me for all the world!" Lorimer took her hand and held it in his with a most tender loyalty and respect.

Her naive, simple words had, all unconsciously to herself, laid bare the secret of her soul to his eyes,--and though his heart beat with a strange sickening sense of unrest that flavored of despair, a gentle reverence filled him, such as a man might feel if some little snow-white shrine, sacred to purity and peace, should be suddenly unveiled before him.
"My dear Miss Gueldmar," he said earnestly, "I assure you, you have no cause to be uneasy! You must not believe a word Dyceworthy says--every one with a grain of common sense can see what a liar and hypocrite he is! And as for you, you never do anything wrong,--don't imagine such nonsense! I wish there were more women like you!" "Ah, that is very kind of you!" half laughed the girl, still allowing her hand to rest in his.