He kissed her without answering in words; and she went on: “When Stephen first came to me with a letter from you, looking very ill, very miserable--I thought he was going to die--he made me very jealous and hurt me by telling me how much happier you were now you were away from town and among country people again. He did not know how fond I had grown of you, and that I was silly enough not to like to hear how well you were getting on without me. Were you as happy as he said, Harry?” “I was happy just then, because Lord Lytham was beginning to show confidence in me, and I saw my way to earning money and being with you again. But, if he said I didn’t miss you, he told lies.” “He did not say that; and he had not the least idea how much it mattered to me. But I was angry with you for sending me such a short letter, and I thought you were enjoying yourself, and very likely didn’t care; so I tore up the long, loving letter I had written, and sent you a short one saying nothing, like yours.” “Oh, you little spiteful creature! I wrote that note four times before I got one fit to send you; I was so afraid you would be offended if I told you what I was going to do. I thought I would wait until I had got on, and then come to you and show you that I could be just as fond of you as if I had never been in a stable in my life. And, at any rate, I thought, if I succeeded, you would think it was better than idling.” “Better than idling! Oh, Harry, it is better than anything for you to be successful and happy and--and fond of me!” After a pause, she continued, “When he came the second time, he said you were not getting on as fast as you wished.” “That was true; I was in low spirits about it. Well?” “Then he said it was very hard for a man without money to get on. He said that himself, not that you had said it. And I was afraid you were perhaps in serious difficulty for want of money, and I begged him to take some that I had put away and didn’t want.” “And he took it?” “Wait. He refused for a long time, and said you would not think of accepting my money, so at last I pushed it into his hand, and told him not to say it came from me. He was very reluctant to the last; I expect he was afraid to give it you and afraid to give it back to me.” “Was that the only time he took your money?” “No; I gave him some two or three times--not much, of course--and it made no difference to me, for it was money I had put aside.” “And what was that you said about jewelry? Come, Annie, you mustn’t keep back anything! It isn’t fair to tell only half.” “It is only that once, when I was short of ready money, and anxious, in spite of poor Stephen’s entreaties, to send you some, I gave him a pair of ear-rings and two other little trinkets I never wore, and asked him to sell them for me.” Harry started up restlessly from the sofa and began marching up and down; then he stopped short in front of her. “Why didn’t you write to me when you got no acknowledgment?”