The expression on my face caused Sir George to turn in the direction of my gaze, and he did so just in time to catch Dorothy in the midst of a mighty pantomimic effort at mute communication.
"Why in the devil's name are you making those grimaces ?" demanded Sir George.
"I wasn't making grimaces--I--I think I was about to sneeze," replied Dorothy.
"Do you think I am blind ?" stormed Sir George.

"Perhaps I am losing my mind?
You are trying to tell Malcolm to say that he was with you at Bowling Green Gate.

Losing my mind, am I?
Damme, I'll show you that if I am losing my mind I have not lost my authority in my own house." "Now, father, what is all this storming about ?" asked the girl, coaxingly, as she boldly put her hands upon her father's shoulders and turned her face in all its wondrous beauty and childish innocence of expression up to his.

"Ask Malcolm to tell you whatever you wish to know." She was sure that her father had told me what she had been so anxious to communicate, and she felt certain that I would not betray her.

She knew that I, whose only virtues were that I loved my friend and despised a lie, would willingly bear false witness for her sake.