‘It is very hard for me--but there is no help now: I must confess disgrace, in order to escape infamy. Listen to me, then--as kindly as you can, Wilfrid. I beg your pardon; I have no right to use any old familiarity with you. Had my father’s plans succeeded, I should still have had to make an apology to you, but under what different circumstances! I will be as brief as I can. My father believed you the rightful heir to Moldwarp Hall. Your own father believed it, and made my father believe it--that was in case your uncle should leave no heir behind him. But your uncle was a strange man, and would neither lay claim to the property himself, nor allow you to be told of your prospects. He did all he could to make you, like himself, indifferent to worldly things; and my father feared you would pride yourself on refusing to claim your rights, unless some counter-influence were used.’ ‘But why should your father have taken any trouble in the matter?’ I asked. ‘Well, you know--one in his profession likes to see justice done; and, besides, to conduct such a case must, of course, be of professional advantage to him. You must not think him under obligation to the present family: my grandfather held the position he still occupies before they came into the property.--I am too unhappy to mind what I say now. My father was pleased when you and I--indeed I fancy he had a hand in our first meeting. But while your uncle lived he had to be cautious. Chance, however, seemed to favour his wishes. We met more than once, and you liked me, and my father thought I might wake you up to care about your rights, and--and--but--’ ‘I see. And it might have been, Clara, but for--’ ‘Only, you see, Mr Cumbermede,’ she interrupted with a half-smile, and a little return of her playful manner--‘_I_ didn’t wish it.’ ‘No. You preferred the man who _had_ the property.’ It was a speech both cruel and rude. She stepped a pace back, and looked me proudly in the face. Prefer that man to _you_, Wilfrid! No. I could never have fallen so low as that. But I confess I didn’t mind letting papa understand that Mr Brotherton was polite to me--just to keep him from urging me to--to--You _will_ do me the justice that I did not try to make you--to make you--care for me, Wilfrid?’ ‘I admit it heartily. I will be as honest as you, and confess that you might have done so--easily enough at one time. Indeed I am only half honest after all: I loved you once--after a boyish fashion.’ She half smiled again. ‘I am glad you are believing me now,’ she said. ‘Thoroughly,’ I answered. ‘When you speak the truth, I must believe you.’ ‘I was afraid to let papa know the real state of things. I was always afraid of him, though I love him dearly, and he is very good to me. I dared not disappoint him by telling him that I loved Charley Osborne. That time--you remember--when we met in Switzerland, his strange ways interested me so much! I was only a girl--but--’