THE UNKNOWN MR. KENT
tions, but all her respect and liking, so slowly up-built, were wounded by his words.
"I thought," she said hesitantly, "that you had remained for something more—than that. I thought friendship, a liking for a great work, a happiness in doing something worth while, had been reasons."
He smiled but did not answer. She interpreted his silence as an admission that she had been mistaken in her estimate of him, and that he had been imbued with nothing but selfish motives. She spoke regretfully, now, and he saw that her reserve was breaking; that, tried and distressed, she was giving way.
"I thought we meant something to you, my brother and I! And I tried to be worthy of what I thought you were. I believed you to be the greatest man I had ever known! Karl would have done anything for you. I would"
She paused, twisted her fingers still harder and then looked at him with eyes like those of a hurt child, candid, outspoken in humiliated confession. "I would have given anything to have you be my friend, as you have been Karl's." She paused, bit her lip, then impetuously clenched her hands and with sheer recklessness added, "I would have given much more—to have helped you—always. If you had failed and been beaten, honourably fighting, I would have liked to go to you,
