"Pattie, you have behaved uncommonly nice about it," she said at length. "And—I don't mind saying that I didn't mean any harm. I thought I'd a right—and I say so still. But I didn't mean any harm." Pattie tried to speak, and failed. Tears were running over her cheeks. "I don't see, for my part, why you should fuss about it. I don't see that it matters. What difference can it make now—about what those letters say?" "No difference—to you—or to any one except me. Only I know better what it meant—what he had to go through. He bore it all so patiently—never a hard word about anybody. And all the time he was accused of what he had never done. And I loved him so—I love him! It doesn't matter to you—not the very least. It does to me—more than anything in all the world." "But—" and Mrs. Cragg came to a pause. "I don't know how to bear it. And any time it may come out—and people will believe that he did what he never could have done." "Only, you can't be sure—you don't really know." "He told me himself. I do know. You cannot know," Pattie said bitterly. "And if it comes out, he will not be here to defend himself. He cannot explain how things were." "But you don't think I would go and make it known now, do you?" Pattie stood up. She had been kneeling by the box hitherto. Her lips moved, but no sound passed them. "Why should I? It wouldn't do any good. I wanted to know—because I thought I'd a right. But you might be sure that I wouldn't tell anybody else." "How can I be sure?" "Why, what should make me tell?" "I do not know what should make you not tell." "Only, if I promise—" A look of distrust again. "You needn't put on that sort of air. If I promise that I'll never tell anybody what I know—and if I mean it—" "You do not mean to say anything to-day. But another day, if you happened to be vexed, and wished to show that you were, you would tell the whole. It would be only natural—for you!" Pattie glanced at the keys, which still hung from Mrs. Cragg's hand. There lay the gist of the matter. Mrs. Cragg had deceived her. For a long while to come Pattie could never feel sure that she was not being again deceived by Mrs. Cragg. If Mrs. Cragg had never been abashed before, she was so now before that tear-stained face with its truthful gaze. There was no unkindness in Pattie's expression, no lack of forgiveness; but there was entire lack of confidence. Her look said plainly what her words implied,—how could she feel sure? Mrs. Cragg had proved herself untrustworthy. That fact once shown, trust in the person concerned becomes a thing impossible. There may be kindness, forgiveness, pity—there may even be an appearance of trust put on, for one reason or another—but real trust is out of the question.