He called
on Mr. Minford once in two or three days now. The inventor always took
occasion to refer to the letter, and assured Marcus that it was not
worth remembering, or talking about. "Why, then, did he talk about it?"
Marcus asked himself. His eyes were not blind to watchful and suspicious
glances which the old man directed to him, at times, under cover of
those shaggy, overhanging eyebrows. Nor could he help noticing a strange
reserve in the bearing of Pet toward him. It was not mere modesty, or
timid gratitude, but DOUBT, as he read the signs. Marcus was convinced
that the father had put his child on guard against something, though he
might not have mentioned the existence of the anonymous letter. This
thought distressed him acutely.
But his troubles, as well as his joys, he kept to himself. The miser
puts his broken bank notes and his good gold under the same lock
and key.
One evening, early in April, Overtop and Maltboy observed a peculiar
expression of sadness on the face of their friend. He had eaten nothing
at dinner, but had drunk more than his usual allowance of sherry.
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