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She covered her face with her trembling hands; tears rained down her cheeks.
“I swear,” said Rowton, “that there is not a doom on this wide earth which shall part us. What is the matter, child? Tell me.”
“I cannot; it is a secret.”
“I swear that you shall, and now.” He tried to clasp her again in his arms, but she slipped from him.
“I can never tell you,” she said; “and while I hold this secret I must not be your wife!”
CHAPTER V.
A WILD WOOER.
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Instead of replying indignantly to her excited words, Rowton gave Nancy a long, attentive and very searching glance.
“When did your father die?” he asked at last.
“Towards morning. He had gone through a terrible night, but towards morning he dozed off and the nurse who was with him said he passed away in his sleep. He looked quite peaceful in the end; I think he trusted me fully.”
“With his secret?” said Rowton.
“Yes,” replied Nancy, “with his secret.”
“And you think,” continued the young man, again favouring her with a queer glance, “that because you have a secret, you and I are to part?”