She looked so attentively and anxiously at me (I even saw her tremble), that I felt now, more than ever, that she had followed my late thoughts. I summoned all the resolutions I had made, in all those many days and nights, and all those many conflicts of my heart.

‘If it should be so,’ I began, ‘and I hope it is-’

‘I don’t know that it is,’ said my aunt curtly.

‘You must not be ruled by my suspicions. You must keep them secret. They are very slight, perhaps. I have no right to speak.’

‘If it should be so,’ I repeated, ‘Agnes will tell me at her own good time. A sister to whom I have confided so much, aunt, will not be reluctant to confide in me.’