brought into contact with you, Lizzie, on those two occasions that you know of. I happen to be able to promise you that a watch shall be kept upon that false accuser, Riderhood. I happen to be able to give you some little consolation in the darkest hour of your distress, by assuring you that I don’t believe him. On the same occasion I tell you that I am the idlest and least of lawyers, but that I am better than none, in a case I have noted down with my own hand, and that you may be always sure of my best help, and incidentally of Lightwood’s too, in your efforts to clear your father. So, it gradually takes my fancy that I may help you—so easily!—to clear your father of that other blame which I mentioned a few minutes ago, and which is a just and real one. I hope I have explained myself; for I am heartily sorry to have distressed you. I hate to claim to mean well, but I really did mean honestly and simply well, and I want you to know it.”
“I have never doubted that, Mr. Wrayburn,” said Lizzie; the more repentant, the less he claimed.
“I am very glad to hear it. Though if you had quite understood my whole meaning at first, I think you would not have refused. Do you think you would?”
“I—don’t know that I should, Mr. Wrayburn.”
“Well! Then why refuse now you do understand it?”
“It’s not easy for me to talk to you,” returned Lizzie, in some confusion, “for you see all the consequences of what I say, as soon as I say it.”
“Take all the consequences,” laughed Eugene, “and take away my disappointment. Lizzie Hexam, as I truly respect you, and as I am your friend and a poor devil of a gentleman, I protest I don’t even now understand why you hesitate.”