If I were to tell you I should break my faith with
him.... You must excuse me; you really must."
"Mr. Sylvester, perhaps you don't need to tell me. Perhaps I can guess.
Isn't he my--"
"Caroline, I cannot--"
"ISN'T HE MY UNCLE, ELISHA WARREN?"
Sylvester was half way to the door, but she was in his path and looking
him directly in the face. He hesitated.
"I thought so," she said. "You needn't answer, Mr. Sylvester; your face
is answer enough. He is."
She turned away, and, walking slowly to the chair from which she had
arisen, sank into it.
"He is," she repeated. "I knew it. I wonder that I didn't know it from
the very first. How could I have been so blind!"
The lawyer, nervous, chagrined, and greatly troubled, remained standing
by the door. He did not know whether to go or stay. He took his
handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead.
"Whew!" he exclaimed. "Well, by--GEORGE!"
She paid no attention to him, but went on, speaking, apparently, to
herself.
"It explains everything," she said. "He was father's brother; and
father, in some way, took and used his money. But father knew what sort
of man he was, and so he asked him to be our guardian. Father thought
he would be kind to us, I suppose. And he has been kind--he has.
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