"No, Faith! I am quite well, only rather out of spirits, and
wanting to talk to you to cheer me."
Miss Faith sat down, straight, sitting bolt-upright to listen the
better.
"I don't know how, but the real story about Ruth is found out."
"Oh, Thurstan!" exclaimed Miss Benson, turning quite white.
For a moment, neither of them said another word. Then she went
on--
"Does Mr. Bradshaw know?"
"Yes! He sent for me, and told me."
"Does Ruth know that it has all come out?"
"Yes. And Leonard knows."
"How? Who told him?"
"I do not know. I have asked no questions. But of course it was
his mother."
"She was very foolish and cruel, then," said Miss Benson, her
eyes blazing, and her lips trembling, at the thought of the
suffering her darling boy must have gone through.
"I think she was wise. I am sure it was not cruel. He must have
soon known that there was some mystery, and it was better that it
should be told him openly and quietly by his mother than by a
stranger."
"How could she tell him quietly?" asked Miss Benson still
indignant.
"Well! perhaps I used the wrong word--of course no one was
by--and I don't suppose even they themselves could now tell how
it was told, or in what spirit it was borne."
Miss Benson was silent again.
"Was Mr. Bradshaw very angry?"
"Yes, very; and justly so. I did very wrong in making that false
statement at first."
"No! I am sure you did not," said Miss Faith.
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