When he went on to the balcony to smoke his cigarette she followed, and stood silently beside him, until he turned and saw her anxious face.
"Well, Annachen," one of his pet names for her, "what is it, little woman ?" Then her soft hand smoothed his coat-sleeve.
"Malcolm dear, I don't like to ask, but I am sure something has gone wrong between you and your friends at the Wood House; you have not once mentioned their name, and there is such a sad, sad look in your eyes." Malcolm took the girl's slender wrists and held them firmly.
"Anna, you are my dear little sister, are you not ?" "Oh yes," in a shrinking voice, for he was evidently waiting for an answer.
"A faithful little sister, who will not misunderstand her brother, even if he doesn't confide in her ?" "Anna, you are right, and something is troubling me--something that can never be set straight in this world; but not even to you can I speak of it." Then she knew, and in her innocent love she would fain have comforted him.
"I am very sorry--very, very sorry," was all she could find to say.
"I am sorry too," he returned gently, and then he kissed her cheek, and Anna stole away sadly to her own room.

If she shed tears they were for him, and not for herself.

Anna's affection for her adopted brother was perfectly unconscious and selfless; she never indulged in unwholesome introspection; she never asked herself why her heart ached that night, and a sense of loneliness and desolation stole over her.
Malcolm was unhappy, that was her one thought--things had gone wrong with him.

Oh, if she could only give him his heart's desire! This wonderful unknown Elizabeth--had she refused him?
Was there some one else?
Alas, these questions were not to be answered.

She must play her part of a faithful little sister, who must ask nothing, refuse nothing.
Malcolm's ordeal was not yet over.