“I wonder if the reverse holds,” said Arthur; and then he paused, and made a rapid, very rapid review of the situation. If this was a mere fantastical distress, as he believed, Clare had Old Arden and (independent of feeling, which, in his circumstances, he was compelled to leave out of the transaction) was of all people in the world the most suitable for him; and if there was anything in it, it was he who was the heir, and in such a case he could make no match which would so conciliate the county and reconcile him with the general public. His final survey was made, his conclusion come to in the twinkling of an eye. He drew a chair near the one on which she had listlessly thrown herself. “I wonder,” he repeated, softly, “if the reverse holds?--when one loves dearly, has one always a light to hope for some kind feeling in return?--if not love, at least compassion and pity, or regret?” “I do not know what you are talking of,” said Clare, wearily. “I don’t think I am equal to discussion to-day.” “Not discussion,” he said, very gently. “Would you try and listen and realise what I am talking about, Clare? It seems the worst moment I could have chosen. You are anxious and disturbed about something----” “No,” she said, abruptly; “you are mistaken, Mr. Arden”--and then with equal suddenness she broke down, and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, yes, yes, I am anxious and full of trouble--full of trouble! Oh, if you were a man I could trust in, that I dared talk freely to---- But you will know it soon enough.” It was a moment at which everything must be risked. “What if I knew it--or, at least, what if I guessed it already?” said Arthur, bending over her. “Ah, Clare, how surprised you look! You were too innocent to know; but there are many people who have known that there was a danger hanging over Edgar. You don’t suppose your father’s conduct to him could have been noticed by everybody without there being some suspicion of the cause?” Clare raised her face, quite bloodless and haggard, from her hands. She looked at him with a look of awe and fear. “Then you knew it!” she said, the words scarcely able to form themselves on her lips. “Yes,” said Arthur; “and for your consolation, Clare--though it should be the reverse of consolation to me--I do not think he should fear. Such things as these are very difficult to prove. The Squire never said a word in his lifetime. I don’t know if any court of law would allow your brother to prove his own illegitimacy--I don’t think they would. He has no right to bring shame on his mother----” “What do you mean?” said Clare, looking at him suddenly with a certain watchfulness rising in her eyes.