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Mary Louise by L. Frank Baum, CHAPTER XIX. AN ARTFUL CONFESSION

CHAPTER XIX. AN ARTFUL CONFESSION

This Monday morning Bub appeared at the Lodge and had the car ready before Mr. Conant had finished his breakfast. Mary Louise decided to drive to Millbank with them, just for the pleasure of the trip, and although the boy evidently regarded her presence with distinct disapproval he made no verbal objection.

As Irene wheeled herself out upon the porch to see them start, Mary Louise called to her:

"Here's your chair cushion, Irene, lying on the steps and quite wet with dew. I never supposed you could be so careless. And you'd better sew up that rip before it gets bigger," she added, handing the cushion to her friend. "I will," Irene quietly returned. Bub proved himself a good driver before they had gone a mile and it pleased Mr. Conant to observe that the boy made the trip down the treacherous mountain road with admirable caution. Once on the level, however, he "stepped on it," as he expressed it, and dashed past the Huddle and over the plain as if training for the Grand Prix. It amused Mary Louise to watch their quaint little driver, barefooted and in blue-jeans and hickory shirt, with the heavy Scotch golf cap pulled over his eyes, taking his task of handling the car as seriously as might any city chauffeur and executing it fully as well.

During the trip the girl conversed with Mr. Conant.

"Do you remember our referring to an old letter, the other day?" she asked.

"Yes," said he. "Irene found it in one of those secondhand books you bought in New York, and she said it spoke of both my mother and my grandfather." "The deuce it did!" he exclaimed, evidently startled by the information.

"It must have been quite an old letter," continued Mary Louise, musingly. "What did it say?" he demanded, rather eagerly for the unemotional lawyer.

"I don't know. Irene wouldn't let me read it." "Wouldn't, eh? That's odd. Why didn't you tell me of this before I left the Lodge?" "I didn't think to tell you, until now. And, Uncle Peter, what, do you think of Miss Lord?" "A very charming lady. What did Irene do with the letter?" "I think she left it in the book; and—the book was stolen the very next day." "Great Caesar! Who knew about that letter?" "Miss Lord was present when Irene found the letter, and she heard Irene exclaim that it was all about my mother, as well as about my grandfather." "Miss Lord?" "Yes." "And the book was taken by someone?" "The next day. We missed it after—after Miss Lord had visited the den alone." "Huh!" He rode for awhile in silence.

"Really," he muttered, as if to himself, "I ought to go back. I ought not to take for granted the fact that this old letter is unimportant. However, Irene has read it, and if it happened to be of value I'm sure the girl would have told me about it." "Yes, she certainly would have told you," agreed Mary Louise. "But she declared that even I would not be interested in reading it." "That's the only point that perplexes me," said the lawyer. "Just—that- -one—point." "Why?" asked the girl.

But Mr. Conant did not explain. He sat bolt upright on his seat, staring at the back of Bub's head, for the rest of the journey. Mary Louise noticed that his fingers constantly fumbled with the locket on his watch chain.

As the lawyer left the car at the station he whispered to Mary Louise:

"Tell Irene that I now know about the letter; and just say to her that I consider her a very cautious girl. Don't say anything more. And don't, for heaven's sake, suspect poor Miss Lord. I'll talk with Irene when I return on Friday." On their way back Bub maintained an absolute silence until after they had passed the Huddle. Before they started to climb the hill road, however, the boy suddenly slowed up, halted the car and turned deliberately in his seat to face Mary Louise.

"Bein' as how you're a gal," said he, "I ain't got much use fer ye, an' that's a fact. I don't say it's your fault, nor that ye wouldn't 'a' made a pass'ble boy ef ye'd be'n borned thet way. But you're right on one thing, an' don't fergit I told ye so: thet woman at Bigbee's ain't on the square." "How do you know?" asked Mary Louise, delighted to be taken into Bub's confidence—being a girl. "The critter's too slick," he explained, raising one bare foot to the cushion beside him and picking a sliver out of his toe. "Her eyes ain't got their shutters raised. Eyes're like winders, but hers ye kain't see through. I don't know nuth'n' 'bout that slick gal at Bigbee's an' I don't want to know nuth'n'. But I heer'd what ye said to the boss, an' what he said to you, an' I guess you're right in sizin' the critter up, an' the boss is wrong." With this he swung round again and started the car, nor did he utter another word until he ran the machine into the garage.

During Mary Louise's absence Irene had had a strange and startling experience with their beautiful neighbor. The girl had wheeled her chair out upon the bluff to sun herself and read, Mrs. Conant being busy in the house, when Agatha Lord strolled up to her with a smile and a pleasant "good morning." "I'm glad to find you alone," said she, seating herself beside the wheeled chair. "I saw Mr. Conant and Mary Louise pass the Bigbee place and decided this would be a good opportunity for you and me to have a nice, quiet talk together. So I came over." Irene's face was a bit disdainful as she remarked: "I found the cushion this morning." "What cushion do you refer to?" asked Agatha with a puzzled expression.

Irene frowned.

"We cannot talk frankly together when we are at cross purposes," she complained. "Very true, my dear; but you seem inclined to speak in riddles." "Do you deny any knowledge of my chair cushion!" "I do." "I must accept your statement, of course. What do you wish to say to me, Miss Lord?" "I would like to establish a more friendly understanding between us. You are an intelligent girl and cannot fail to realize that I have taken a warm interest in your friend Mary Louise Burrows. I want to know more about her, and about her people, who seem to have cast her off. You are able to give me this information, I am sure, and by doing so you may be instrumental in assisting your friend materially." It was an odd speech; odd and insincere. Irene studied the woman's face curiously. "Who are you, Miss Lord?" she inquired.

"Your neighbor." "Why are you our neighbor?" "I am glad to be able to explain that—to you, in confidence. I am trying to clear the name of Colonel Weatherby from a grave charge—the charge of high treason." "In other words, you are trying to discover where he is," retorted Irene impatiently. "No, my dear; you mistake me. It is not important to my mission, at present, to know where Colonel Weatherby is staying. I am merely seeking relevant information, such information as you are in a position to give me." "I, Miss Lord?" "Yes. To be perfectly frank, I want to see the letter which you found in that book." "Why should you attach any importance to that?" "I was present, you will remember, when you discovered it. I marked your surprise and perplexity—your fear and uncertainty—as you glanced first at the writing and then at Mary Louise. You determined not to show your friend that letter because it would disturb her, yet you inadvertently admitted, in my hearing, that it referred to the girl's mother and— which is vastly more important—to her grandfather." "Well; what then, Miss Lord?" "Colonel Weatherby is a man of mystery. He has been hunted by Government agents for nearly ten years, during which time he has successfully eluded them. If you know anything of the Government service you know it has a thousand eyes, ten thousand ears and a myriad of long arms to seize its malefactors. It has not yet captured Colonel Weatherby." "Why has he been hunted all these years?" "He is charged, as I said, with high treason. By persistently evading capture he has tacitly admitted his guilt." "But he is innocent!" cried Irene indignantly.

Miss Lord seemed surprised, yet not altogether ill-pleased, at the involuntary exclamation.

"Indeed!" she said softly. "Could you prove that statement?" "I—I think so," stammered the girl, regretting her hasty avowal. "Then why not do so and by restoring Mary Louise to her grandfather make them both happy?" Irene sat silent, trapped.

"This is why I have come to you," continued Agatha, very seriously. "I am employed by those whose identity I must not disclose to sift this mystery of Colonel Weatherby to the bottom, if possible, and then to fix the guilt where it belongs. By accident you have come into possession of certain facts that would be important in unravelling the tangle, but through your unfortunate affliction you are helpless to act in your own capacity. You need an ally with more strength and experience than yourself, and I propose you accept me as that ally. Together we may be able to clear the name of James J. Hathaway—who now calls himself Colonel James Weatherby—from all reproach and so restore him to the esteem of his fellow men." "But we must not do that, even if we could!" cried Irene, quite distressed by the suggestion.

"Why not, my dear?" The tone was so soft and cat-like that it alarmed Irene instantly. Before answering she took time to reflect. To her dismay she found this woman was gradually drawing from her the very information she had declared she would preserve secret. She knew well that she was no match for Agatha Lord in a trial of wits. Her only recourse must be a stubborn refusal to explain anything more.

"Colonel Weatherby," she said slowly, "has better information than I of the charge against him and his reasons for keeping hidden, yet he steadfastly refuses to proclaim his innocence or to prove he is unjustly accused, which he might very well do if he chose. You say you are working in his interests, and, allowing that, I am satisfied he would bitterly reproach anyone who succeeded in clearing his name by disclosing the truth." This argument positively amazed Agatha Lord, as it might well amaze anyone who had not read the letter. In spite of her supreme confidence of the moment before, the woman now suddenly realized that this promising interview was destined to end disastrously to her plans.

"I am so obtuse that you will have to explain that statement," she said with assumed carelessness; but Irene was now on guard and replied: "Then our alliance is dissolved. I do not intend, Miss Lord, to betray such information as I may have stumbled upon unwittingly. You express interest in Mary Louise and her grandfather and say you are anxious to serve them. So am I. Therefore I beg you, in their interests, to abandon any further attempt to penetrate the secret." Agatha was disconcerted.

"Show me the letter," she urged, as a last resort. "If, on reading it, I find your position is justifiable—you must admit it is now bewildering- -I will agree to abandon the investigation altogether." "I will not show you the letter," declared the girl positively. The woman studied her face.

"But you will consider this conversation confidential, will you not?" "Since you request it, yes." "I do not wish our very pleasant relations, as neighbors, disturbed. I would rather the Conants and Mary Louise did not suspect I am here on any especial mission." "Very well." "In truth," continued Agatha, "I am growing fond of yon all and this is a real vacation to me, after a period of hard work in the city which racked my nerves. Before long I must return to the old strenuous life, so I wish to make the most of my present opportunities." "I understand." No further reference was made to the letter or to Colonel Weatherby. They talked of other things for a while and when Miss Lord went away there seemed to exist—at least upon the surface—the same friendly relations that had formerly prevailed between them.

Irene, reflecting upon the interview, decided that while she had admitted more than was wise she had stopped short of exposing the truth about Colonel Weatherby. The letter was safely hidden, now. She defied even Miss Lord to find it. If she could manage to control her tongue, hereafter, the secret was safe in her possession.

Thoughtfully she wheeled herself back to the den and finding the room deserted she ventured to peep into her novel hiding-place. Yes; the precious letter was still safe. But this time, in her abstraction, she failed to see the face at the window.

CHAPTER XIX. AN ARTFUL CONFESSION

This Monday morning Bub appeared at the Lodge and had the car ready before Mr. Conant had finished his breakfast. Questo lunedì mattina Bub si presentò alla Loggia e fece preparare l'auto prima che il signor Conant avesse finito la colazione. Mary Louise decided to drive to Millbank with them, just for the pleasure of the trip, and although the boy evidently regarded her presence with distinct disapproval he made no verbal objection.

As Irene wheeled herself out upon the porch to see them start, Mary Louise called to her:

"Here's your chair cushion, Irene, lying on the steps and quite wet with dew. "Ecco il cuscino della tua sedia, Irene, steso sui gradini e piuttosto bagnato di rugiada. I never supposed you could be so careless. And you'd better sew up that rip before it gets bigger," she added, handing the cushion to her friend. "I will," Irene quietly returned. Bub proved himself a good driver before they had gone a mile and it pleased Mr. Conant to observe that the boy made the trip down the treacherous mountain road with admirable caution. Once on the level, however, he "stepped on it," as he expressed it, and dashed past the Huddle and over the plain as if training for the Grand Prix. Una volta in piano, tuttavia, "ha fatto un passo avanti", come ha detto lui stesso, e ha superato l'Huddle e la pianura come se si stesse allenando per il Gran Premio. It amused Mary Louise to watch their quaint little driver, barefooted and in blue-jeans and hickory shirt, with the heavy Scotch golf cap pulled over his eyes, taking his task of handling the car as seriously as might any city chauffeur and executing it fully as well. Mary Louise si divertì a osservare il loro piccolo e caratteristico autista, a piedi nudi, in blue-jeans e camicia di hickory, con il pesante berretto da golf scozzese calato sugli occhi, che prendeva il suo compito di gestire l'auto con la stessa serietà di un qualsiasi autista di città e lo eseguiva pienamente.

During the trip the girl conversed with Mr. Conant.

"Do you remember our referring to an old letter, the other day?" she asked.

"Yes," said he. "Irene found it in one of those secondhand books you bought in New York, and she said it spoke of both my mother and my grandfather." "The deuce it did!" "Ma che diamine!". he exclaimed, evidently startled by the information. esclamò, evidentemente sorpreso dall'informazione.

"It must have been quite an old letter," continued Mary Louise, musingly. "Doveva essere una lettera piuttosto vecchia", continuò Mary Louise, con aria pensierosa. "What did it say?" he demanded, rather eagerly for the unemotional lawyer. chiese, in modo piuttosto impetuoso per un avvocato poco emotivo.

"I don't know. Irene wouldn't let me read it." "Wouldn't, eh? That's odd. È strano. Why didn't you tell me of this before I left the Lodge?" "I didn't think to tell you, until now. And, Uncle Peter, what, do you think of Miss Lord?" "A very charming lady. What did Irene do with the letter?" "I think she left it in the book; and—the book was stolen the very next day." "Great Caesar! Who knew about that letter?" "Miss Lord was present when Irene found the letter, and she heard Irene exclaim that it was all about my mother, as well as about my grandfather." "Miss Lord?" "Yes." "And the book was taken by someone?" "The next day. We missed it after—after Miss Lord had visited the den alone." Ci è sfuggito dopo che la signorina Lord ha visitato la tana da sola". "Huh!" He rode for awhile in silence. Cavalcò per un po' in silenzio.

"Really," he muttered, as if to himself, "I ought to go back. "Davvero", mormorò, come se fosse a se stesso, "dovrei tornare indietro". I ought not to take for granted the fact that this old letter is unimportant. Non devo dare per scontato che questa vecchia lettera non sia importante. However, Irene has read it, and if it happened to be of value I'm sure the girl would have told me about it." "Yes, she certainly would have told you," agreed Mary Louise. "But she declared that even I would not be interested in reading it." "Ma ha dichiarato che nemmeno io sarei interessato a leggerlo". "That's the only point that perplexes me," said the lawyer. "Just—that- -one—point." "Why?" asked the girl.

But Mr. Conant did not explain. He sat bolt upright on his seat, staring at the back of Bub's head, for the rest of the journey. Rimase seduto in posizione eretta sul sedile, fissando la nuca di Bub per il resto del viaggio. Mary Louise noticed that his fingers constantly fumbled with the locket on his watch chain. Mary Louise notò che le sue dita armeggiavano continuamente con il medaglione della catena dell'orologio.

As the lawyer left the car at the station he whispered to Mary Louise:

"Tell Irene that I now know about the letter; and just say to her that I consider her a very cautious girl. "Dite a Irene che ora so della lettera; e ditele che la considero una ragazza molto prudente. Don't say anything more. And don't, for heaven's sake, suspect poor Miss Lord. E non sospettate, per carità, della povera signorina Lord. I'll talk with Irene when I return on Friday." On their way back Bub maintained an absolute silence until after they had passed the Huddle. Before they started to climb the hill road, however, the boy suddenly slowed up, halted the car and turned deliberately in his seat to face Mary Louise.

"Bein' as how you're a gal," said he, "I ain't got much use fer ye, an' that's a fact. "Visto che sei una ragazza", disse, "non mi servi a molto, e questo è un dato di fatto. I don't say it's your fault, nor that ye wouldn't 'a' made a pass'ble boy ef ye'd be'n borned thet way. Non dico che sia colpa tua, né che non saresti stato un bravo ragazzo se fossi nato così. But you're right on one thing, an' don't fergit I told ye so: thet woman at Bigbee's ain't on the square." Ma su una cosa hai ragione, e non scordarti che te l'ho detto: quella donna da Bigbee non è in regola". "How do you know?" asked Mary Louise, delighted to be taken into Bub's confidence—being a girl. "The critter's too slick," he explained, raising one bare foot to the cushion beside him and picking a sliver out of his toe. "La creatura è troppo viscida", spiegò, sollevando un piede nudo sul cuscino accanto a lui e staccando una scheggia dall'alluce. "Her eyes ain't got their shutters raised. "I suoi occhi non hanno le persiane alzate. Eyes're like winders, but hers ye kain't see through. Gli occhi sono come le cerniere, ma i suoi non riescono a vedere attraverso. I don't know nuth'n' 'bout that slick gal at Bigbee's an' I don't want to know nuth'n'. Non so nulla di quella furbetta di Bigbee e non voglio sapere nulla. But I heer'd what ye said to the boss, an' what he said to you, an' I guess you're right in sizin' the critter up, an' the boss is wrong." Ma ho sentito quello che hai detto al capo e quello che lui ha detto a te, e credo che tu abbia ragione nel valutare la creatura e il capo si sbagli". With this he swung round again and started the car, nor did he utter another word until he ran the machine into the garage. Con ciò si girò di nuovo e mise in moto l'auto, e non pronunciò un'altra parola fino a quando non entrò in garage con la macchina.

During Mary Louise's absence Irene had had a strange and startling experience with their beautiful neighbor. Durante l'assenza di Mary Louise, Irene aveva avuto un'esperienza strana e sorprendente con la loro bella vicina. The girl had wheeled her chair out upon the bluff to sun herself and read, Mrs. Conant being busy in the house, when Agatha Lord strolled up to her with a smile and a pleasant "good morning." La ragazza aveva spostato la sua sedia sulla scogliera per prendere il sole e leggere, dato che la signora Conant era impegnata in casa, quando Agatha Lord le si avvicinò con un sorriso e un piacevole "buongiorno". "I'm glad to find you alone," said she, seating herself beside the wheeled chair. "Sono felice di trovarti da solo", disse lei, sedendosi accanto alla sedia a rotelle. "I saw Mr. Conant and Mary Louise pass the Bigbee place and decided this would be a good opportunity for you and me to have a nice, quiet talk together. So I came over." Irene's face was a bit disdainful as she remarked: Il volto di Irene era un po' sdegnato mentre osservava: "I found the cushion this morning." "What cushion do you refer to?" asked Agatha with a puzzled expression.

Irene frowned.

"We cannot talk frankly together when we are at cross purposes," she complained. "Non possiamo parlare francamente insieme quando siamo agli antipodi", si è lamentata. "Very true, my dear; but you seem inclined to speak in riddles." "È vero, mia cara; ma mi sembra che tu sia incline a parlare per enigmi". "Do you deny any knowledge of my chair cushion!" "Neghi di essere a conoscenza del mio cuscino della sedia!". "I do." "I must accept your statement, of course. "Devo accettare la sua dichiarazione, naturalmente. What do you wish to say to me, Miss Lord?" "I would like to establish a more friendly understanding between us. "Vorrei stabilire un'intesa più amichevole tra di noi. You are an intelligent girl and cannot fail to realize that I have taken a warm interest in your friend Mary Louise Burrows. Lei è una ragazza intelligente e non può non rendersi conto che mi sono interessato molto alla sua amica Mary Louise Burrows. I want to know more about her, and about her people, who seem to have cast her off. You are able to give me this information, I am sure, and by doing so you may be instrumental in assisting your friend materially." Lei è in grado di darmi queste informazioni, ne sono certo, e così facendo potrebbe essere utile per aiutare materialmente il suo amico". It was an odd speech; odd and insincere. Era un discorso strano, strano e insincero. Irene studied the woman's face curiously. "Who are you, Miss Lord?" she inquired.

"Your neighbor." "Why are you our neighbor?" "I am glad to be able to explain that—to you, in confidence. I am trying to clear the name of Colonel Weatherby from a grave charge—the charge of high treason." Sto cercando di scagionare il nome del colonnello Weatherby da una grave accusa, quella di alto tradimento". "In other words, you are trying to discover where he is," retorted Irene impatiently. "No, my dear; you mistake me. It is not important to my mission, at present, to know where Colonel Weatherby is staying. I am merely seeking relevant information, such information as you are in a position to give me." "I, Miss Lord?" "Yes. To be perfectly frank, I want to see the letter which you found in that book." "Why should you attach any importance to that?" "I was present, you will remember, when you discovered it. I marked your surprise and perplexity—your fear and uncertainty—as you glanced first at the writing and then at Mary Louise. Ho notato la tua sorpresa e la tua perplessità, la tua paura e la tua incertezza, mentre guardavi prima la scritta e poi Mary Louise. You determined not to show your friend that letter because it would disturb her, yet you inadvertently admitted, in my hearing, that it referred to the girl's mother and— which is vastly more important—to her grandfather." Lei ha deciso di non mostrare quella lettera alla sua amica perché l'avrebbe turbata, eppure ha inavvertitamente ammesso, durante la mia audizione, che si riferiva alla madre della ragazza e - cosa molto più importante - a suo nonno". "Well; what then, Miss Lord?" "Bene; e allora, signorina Lord?". "Colonel Weatherby is a man of mystery. He has been hunted by Government agents for nearly ten years, during which time he has successfully eluded them. If you know anything of the Government service you know it has a thousand eyes, ten thousand ears and a myriad of long arms to seize its malefactors. Se conoscete il servizio governativo, sapete che ha mille occhi, diecimila orecchie e una miriade di lunghe braccia per catturare i suoi malfattori. It has not yet captured Colonel Weatherby." "Why has he been hunted all these years?" "He is charged, as I said, with high treason. "È accusato, come ho detto, di alto tradimento. By persistently evading capture he has tacitly admitted his guilt." "But he is innocent!" cried Irene indignantly.

Miss Lord seemed surprised, yet not altogether ill-pleased, at the involuntary exclamation. La signorina Lord sembrò sorpresa, ma non del tutto dispiaciuta, per l'involontaria esclamazione.

"Indeed!" "Infatti!" she said softly. "Could you prove that statement?" "I—I think so," stammered the girl, regretting her hasty avowal. "Credo di sì", balbettò la ragazza, pentendosi della sua affermazione affrettata. "Then why not do so and by restoring Mary Louise to her grandfather make them both happy?" "Allora perché non farlo e, restituendo Mary Louise al nonno, renderli entrambi felici?". Irene sat silent, trapped. Irene rimase in silenzio, in trappola.

"This is why I have come to you," continued Agatha, very seriously. "I am employed by those whose identity I must not disclose to sift this mystery of Colonel Weatherby to the bottom, if possible, and then to fix the guilt where it belongs. "Sono stato assunto da coloro di cui non devo rivelare l'identità per setacciare il mistero del colonnello Weatherby fino in fondo, se possibile, e poi per fissare la colpa dove deve essere. By accident you have come into possession of certain facts that would be important in unravelling the tangle, but through your unfortunate affliction you are helpless to act in your own capacity. Per caso siete venuti in possesso di alcuni fatti che sarebbero importanti per dipanare il groviglio, ma a causa della vostra sfortunata afflizione siete incapaci di agire in prima persona. You need an ally with more strength and experience than yourself, and I propose you accept me as that ally. Together we may be able to clear the name of James J. Hathaway—who now calls himself Colonel James Weatherby—from all reproach and so restore him to the esteem of his fellow men." Insieme potremmo essere in grado di ripulire il nome di James J. Hathaway - che ora si fa chiamare colonnello James Weatherby - da ogni rimprovero e restituirgli così la stima dei suoi simili". "But we must not do that, even if we could!" "Ma non dobbiamo farlo, anche se potessimo!". cried Irene, quite distressed by the suggestion. esclamò Irene, alquanto angosciata da questo suggerimento.

"Why not, my dear?" The tone was so soft and cat-like that it alarmed Irene instantly. Il tono era così dolce e felino che allarmò Irene all'istante. Before answering she took time to reflect. To her dismay she found this woman was gradually drawing from her the very information she had declared she would preserve secret. Con sgomento scoprì che questa donna le stava gradualmente sottraendo proprio le informazioni che aveva dichiarato di voler mantenere segrete. She knew well that she was no match for Agatha Lord in a trial of wits. Sapeva bene di non essere all'altezza di Agatha Lord in una prova d'ingegno. Her only recourse must be a stubborn refusal to explain anything more. L'unica soluzione è il rifiuto ostinato di fornire ulteriori spiegazioni.

"Colonel Weatherby," she said slowly, "has better information than I of the charge against him and his reasons for keeping hidden, yet he steadfastly refuses to proclaim his innocence or to prove he is unjustly accused, which he might very well do if he chose. "Il colonnello Weatherby", disse lentamente, "ha informazioni migliori di me sull'accusa contro di lui e sulle ragioni che lo hanno spinto a tenersi nascosto, eppure si rifiuta fermamente di proclamare la sua innocenza o di dimostrare che è accusato ingiustamente, cosa che potrebbe benissimo fare se lo volesse. You say you are working in his interests, and, allowing that, I am satisfied he would bitterly reproach anyone who succeeded in clearing his name by disclosing the truth." Lei dice di lavorare nel suo interesse e, ammettendolo, sono convinto che rimprovererebbe aspramente chiunque riuscisse a ripulire il suo nome rivelando la verità". This argument positively amazed Agatha Lord, as it might well amaze anyone who had not read the letter. Questa argomentazione stupì positivamente Agatha Lord, come avrebbe potuto stupire chiunque non avesse letto la lettera. In spite of her supreme confidence of the moment before, the woman now suddenly realized that this promising interview was destined to end disastrously to her plans. Nonostante la sua suprema fiducia del momento precedente, la donna si rendeva ora improvvisamente conto che questo promettente colloquio era destinato a concludersi in modo disastroso per i suoi piani.

"I am so obtuse that you will have to explain that statement," she said with assumed carelessness; but Irene was now on guard and replied: "Sono così ottusa che dovrai spiegare questa affermazione", disse con presunta noncuranza; ma Irene era ormai in guardia e rispose: "Then our alliance is dissolved. "Allora la nostra alleanza è sciolta. I do not intend, Miss Lord, to betray such information as I may have stumbled upon unwittingly. Non intendo, signorina, tradire le informazioni in cui potrei essere incappata senza volerlo. You express interest in Mary Louise and her grandfather and say you are anxious to serve them. Lei esprime interesse per Mary Louise e suo nonno e si dice ansioso di servirli. So am I. Therefore I beg you, in their interests, to abandon any further attempt to penetrate the secret." Perciò vi prego, nel loro interesse, di abbandonare ogni ulteriore tentativo di penetrare il segreto". Agatha was disconcerted.

"Show me the letter," she urged, as a last resort. "If, on reading it, I find your position is justifiable—you must admit it is now bewildering- -I will agree to abandon the investigation altogether." "Se, leggendola, trovo che la vostra posizione sia giustificabile - dovete ammettere che ora è sconcertante -, accetterò di abbandonare del tutto l'indagine". "I will not show you the letter," declared the girl positively. "Non le mostrerò la lettera", dichiarò positivamente la ragazza. The woman studied her face.

"But you will consider this conversation confidential, will you not?" "Ma considererete questa conversazione riservata, non è vero?". "Since you request it, yes." "Visto che lo richiedete, sì". "I do not wish our very pleasant relations, as neighbors, disturbed. "Non vorrei che i nostri piacevolissimi rapporti di vicinato fossero disturbati. I would rather the Conants and Mary Louise did not suspect I am here on any especial mission." Preferirei che i Conant e Mary Louise non sospettassero che sono qui per una missione speciale". "Very well." "In truth," continued Agatha, "I am growing fond of yon all and this is a real vacation to me, after a period of hard work in the city which racked my nerves. "In verità", ha continuato Agatha, "mi sto affezionando a tutti voi e questa è una vera vacanza per me, dopo un periodo di duro lavoro in città che mi ha fatto saltare i nervi. Before long I must return to the old strenuous life, so I wish to make the most of my present opportunities." Tra non molto dovrò tornare alla vecchia vita faticosa, quindi desidero sfruttare al meglio le mie attuali opportunità". "I understand." No further reference was made to the letter or to Colonel Weatherby. Non è stato fatto alcun riferimento alla lettera o al colonnello Weatherby. They talked of other things for a while and when Miss Lord went away there seemed to exist—at least upon the surface—the same friendly relations that had formerly prevailed between them.

Irene, reflecting upon the interview, decided that while she had admitted more than was wise she had stopped short of exposing the truth about Colonel Weatherby. Irene, riflettendo sul colloquio, decise che, pur avendo ammesso più di quanto fosse saggio, si era fermata al di sotto della verità sul colonnello Weatherby. The letter was safely hidden, now. She defied even Miss Lord to find it. Sfidava persino la signorina Lord a trovarlo. If she could manage to control her tongue, hereafter, the secret was safe in her possession. Se fosse riuscita a controllare la lingua, d'ora in poi il segreto sarebbe stato in suo possesso.

Thoughtfully she wheeled herself back to the den and finding the room deserted she ventured to peep into her novel hiding-place. Pensierosa, tornò alla tana e, trovando la stanza deserta, si avventurò a sbirciare nel suo nuovo nascondiglio. Yes; the precious letter was still safe. But this time, in her abstraction, she failed to see the face at the window. Ma questa volta, nella sua astrazione, non vide il volto alla finestra.