Not to discuss it; I know it is untrue. Your two brothers--
do you know that they speak spitefully of you?"
"I didn't know it. I don't think I have given them cause."
"I am very sure you haven't. But I want you to know about it, and I
shall tell you the facts. After the death of my aunt, Mrs.
Hannaford, you got from the hands of Daniel Otway a packet of her
letters; he bargained with you, and you paid his price, wishing
those letters to be seen by my father and my cousin Olga, whose
minds they would set at rest. Now, Daniel Otway is telling people
that you never paid the sum you promised him, and that, being in
poverty, he vainly applies to you for help."
She saw his hand grasp a twig that hung near him, and drag it rudely
down; she did not look at his face.
"I should have thought," Piers answered with grave composure, "that
nothing Daniel Otway said could concern me. I see it isn't so. It
must have troubled you, for you to speak of it."
"It has; I thought about it. I rejected it as a falsehood."
"There's a double falsehood. I paid him the price he asked, on the
day he asked it, and I have since"--he checked himself--"I have
not refused him help in his poverty."
Irene's heart glowed within her. Even thus, and not otherwise, would
she have desired him to refute the slander. It was a test she had
promised herself; she could have laughed for joy. Her voice betrayed
this glad emotion.
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