A Singer from the Sea. Amelia E. Barr
bluff, you will not put it down against me, I’ll warrant.”
“I think, Mr. Penelles, that you are quite right. I have felt all you say for two years, and have shielded the honour and the happiness of Denas as 54 if she was in very deed my sister. Can you not trust her with me now?”
“ ’Tis a great charge, miss.”
“I am glad to take it. I will keep it for you faithfully.”
“ ’Tis too much to ask, miss; ’twould be a constant charge, for wrong-doing is often a matter of a few moments, though the repentance for it may last a lifetime.”
“Roland is in London. He went yesterday. I do not expect him to come to St. Penfer again until the wedding. I assure you of this, Mr. Penelles.”
“Then your word for it, Miss Tresham. Take my little maid with you. She be my life, miss. If Denas was hurt any way ’twould be like I got a shot in my backbone; ’twould be as bad for her mother, likewise for poor Tris Penrose.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I am glad to hear there is a lover; Denas never told me of him. Is he good and brave, and handsome and young, and well-to-do?”
“He be all these, and more too; for he do love the ground Denas treads on––he do for sure.”
Denas was in her room putting on her blue merino and her hat, and while she made her small arrangements and talked to her mother, Elizabeth set herself to win the entire confidence of John Penelles. It was not a hard thing to do. Evil and sin had to be present and palpable for John’s honest heart to realize them. And Miss Tresham’s open face, her frank assurances, her straightforward understanding of the position were a pledge John never doubted.
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