I remembered all that he had done for me, all his beautiful integrity of character, and blushed for the hesitation which seemed like distrust.
“I am ready to follow you now, and always,” I said. “Tell me what to do, and I will obey.”
“Thank you, child,” said the old man. “Come at once, in the dress you have on. Lady Catherine has gone out to drive—if she returns before we leave, have no fear, I shall be with you.”
I threw a mantle over my dress, and went out, keeping up with Turner, who walked on rapidly, and absorbed in thought. We entered the back door over the very steps upon which the old man had found me ten years ago. He seemed to remember it, for as I crossed the threshold he turned and reached forth his hand as if to help me along. His heart was busy with the past. One could see that very plainly, for he gave a little start as I took his hand, and turned a sort of apologizing smile upon me, and I saw tears steal one by one into his eyes, as he pressed my hand and drew me forward. We threaded the hall, and mounted the massive oak staircase without encountering even a servant. Then Turner clasped my hand tighter, as if to give me courage, and led me rapidly through several vast chambers, till we came to a closed door at which he paused.
“Step into that window and hide yourself behind the curtains,” he whispered.
I went at once, and when he saw the heavy crimson silk sweep over me, Turner knocked lightly at the door.
It was opened by young Morton, who stepped out and spoke in a whisper.
“He has been inquiring for you.”
“That is well,” answered Turner, “you can leave him entirely now and get some rest—I will take your place.”
“Thank you. I have just ordered some fruit—you will find it on the tray yonder,” said Morton, evidently glad to be relieved.