"At the fire! And you——"
"I was there in time, thank God!" spoke Roger Armstrong, from his soul.
The two girls passed through to the blue bedroom, softly.
Mr. Armstrong went back to the mills again, with horse and chaise.
Glory shut the bedroom door.
"Why, you are all wet, and draggled, and smoked!" said she, taking off Faith's outer, borrowed garments. "What has happened to you—and how came you there, Miss Faith?"
"I fell asleep in the countingroom, last evening, and got locked in. I was coming home. I can't tell you now, Glory. I don't dare to think it all over, yet. And we mustn't let Aunt Faith know that I am here."
These sentences they spoke in whispers.
Glory asked no more; but brought warm water, and bathed and rubbed Faith's feet, and helped her to undress, and put her night clothes on, and covered her in bed with blankets, and then went away softly to the kitchen, whence she brought back, presently, a cup of hot tea, and a biscuit.
"Take these, please," she said.