She wanted to tell him the truth then and there without waiting to consult Tom, but her courage failed her. She couldn’t do it, and it was not the place either. “No, thanks,” was her answer. “I am a little nervous with those chairs and things which belonged to the dead. That is all, and I think it is time we were going home. The sun is down, you see.” Irene was not at all anxious to go, but Rena was so persistent that the carriage was brought to the door and we were soon saying good-night to the three gentlemen, who stood waving their hands to us as we drove down the avenue, one of them, certainly, looking relieved that the affair was over. CHAPTER XI DRIFTING The next morning Tom came to the farmhouse and sat with Rena under the great tree in Mrs. Parks’ yard. Irene was not feeling quite well, and kept her room, leaving Rena alone with Tom. There had been a few words between herself and Rena with, regard to the deception which the latter wished to end and Irene had met the proposal with an insinuation that it looked very much as if Rena was jealous of the attentions paid to her by Mr. McPherson and wished to transfer them to herself. Rena was silenced but not convinced, and when alone with Tom she opened her heart to him and asked what she ought to do! “Do you think you could care for Rex?” Tom asked, a great gulp in his throat as he thought of the possibility. “Not the way you mean,” Rena answered; “but I wish you would tell him I am the Irene meant in the will, but can never care for him except as a friend; then, everything will be honest and fair, and we can have such a good time. I am miserable now. Will you tell him?” She put her hand on Tom’s, and he felt every nerve quiver from the touch of her fingers. Just for a moment he did not speak, while many conflicting thoughts ran through his mind. Rex ought to be told, but he had seen that in his friend which warned him of danger. Once let him know the truth and he would turn to Rena, first as a duty, perhaps, and then for the girl herself, while she—He was not quite so sure what she might do under pressure, she was so impulsive, and he could not lose her now. “Rena,” he said at last, “let it drift for a while now we are in it. Rex has taken Irene for you without asking a question. If he speaks to me of the will I shall tell him the truth. Until he does better let him alone unless you think you might care for him. You are sure you could not?” “Only as a friend,” Rena replied, while for a moment there was silence between them. Then, taking her hand, Tom said: “Is there any one you could care for—me, for instance?” There was a look in Rena’s eyes like a startled fawn as she raised them to Tom’s face, and her lips quivered as if she were about to cry. “O Tom!” she said, “don’t ask me now. Everything is so mixed and wrong. I don’t know what I want or who I am exactly. Wait ever so long, and maybe I shall know.”