“Or how anxious I have been to speak to you,” said I, “ever since the visitor was here today.”
“The visitor, my dear! Sir Leicester Dedlock?”
“Yes.”
He folded his arms and sat looking at me with an air of the profoundest astonishment, awaiting what I should say next. I did not know how to prepare him.
“Why, Esther,” said he, breaking into a smile, “our visitor and you are the two last persons on earth I should have thought of connecting together!”
“Oh, yes, guardian, I know it. And I too, but a little while ago.”
The smile passed from his face, and he became graver than before. He crossed to the door to see that it was shut (but I had seen to that) and resumed his seat before me.
“Guardian,” said I, “do you remember, when we were overtaken by the thunderstorm, Lady Dedlock’s speaking to you of her sister?”
“Of course. Of course I do.”
“And reminding you that she and her sister had differed, had gone their several ways?”
“Of course.”
“Why did they separate, guardian?”
His face quite altered as he looked at me. “My child, what questions are these! I never knew. No one but themselves ever did know, I believe. Who could tell what the secrets of those two handsome and proud women were! You have seen Lady Dedlock. If you had ever seen her sister, you would know her to have been as resolute and haughty as she.”