"Well, but if there is no hint at all?" objected Cornelius, making a curious face. "No hint at all?" echoed his sister, rather bewildered. "Kate," resolutely said Cornelius, "think me foolish, mad, if you like: the truth is, that I have found out the innocence of Daisy, as I ought to have found it out at once--by believing her." "But where are the proofs?" asked Kate. "I tell you there are no proofs," he replied with impatient warmth; "proofs made me condemn Daisy; I am now a wiser man, and acquit her on trust." "No proofs!" said Kate, looking confounded. "No, Kate, none, and I don't want any either." "But you had proofs this morning, you said." "You could not give me a better reason for having none this evening. Proofs are cheats, I shall trust no more." Kate sighed profoundly and said in a rueful tone-- "Heaven knows how much I wish to believe Daisy innocent, but my opinion cannot turn about so quickly as yours." "She did not do it, Kate," exclaimed her brother, a little vehemently, "she did not." "You need not fly out: I never accused her." "But I did: do not wonder that I defend her all the more warmly." "But I do wonder," pursued Kate, with a keen look at me; "there is something in it; the sly little thing got round you whilst you were alone together. Oh, Cornelius, Cornelius! that child has made her way to your very heart. You would rather be deceived than think she did wrong." "I am not deceived," he indignantly replied. Kate did not answer, but kept looking at me in a way that made me feel very uncomfortable. "Daisy is guiltless," continued her brother; "how I ever thought her otherwise is a mystery to me. Who has ever been more devoted to my painting than the poor child?" Kate opened her lips, then closed them again without speaking. Cornelius detected this. "Well," he said quickly, "what have you got to say, Kate?" "Nothing!" she drily answered, with another look at me so searching and so keen that I involuntarily clung closer to Cornelius. "Kate," he said again, looking from me to her, "what have you to say?" There was a pause; Kate hesitated, then resolutely replied-- "The truth--which always insists on making itself known, no doubt because it is good that it should be known. I think, Cornelius, that you acquit Daisy as you condemned her--too hastily; but that is a part of your character: you detest to suspect--a generous, imprudent feeling. You make too much or too little of proofs. Now it so chances that I have got one which escaped you this morning, when you would have held it conclusive; which I kept quiet, but never meant to suppress. I shall make no comments upon it, but simply lay it before you."