She was weak and helpless, shaken in mind and nerve.
It was to take her at a disadvantage to obtrude love upon her at
such a time. Worse still, she was rich. If Holmes's researches
were successful, she would be an heiress. Was it fair, was it
honorable, that a half-pay surgeon should take such advantage of
an intimacy which chance had brought about? Might she not look
upon me as a mere vulgar fortune-seeker? I could not bear to
risk that such a thought should cross her mind. This Agra
treasure intervened like an impassable barrier between us.
It was nearly two o'clock when we reached Mrs. Cecil Forrester's.
The servants had retired hours ago, but Mrs. Forrester had been
so interested by the strange message which Miss Morstan had
received that she had sat up in the hope of her return. She
opened the door herself, a middle-aged, graceful woman, and it
gave me joy to see how tenderly her arm stole round the other's
waist and how motherly was the voice in which she greeted her.
She was clearly no mere paid dependant, but an honored friend. I
was introduced, and Mrs. Forrester earnestly begged me to step in
and tell her our adventures. I explained, however, the
importance of my errand, and promised faithfully to call and
report any progress which we might make with the case.
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