Humility looked distressed, uncomfortable. Honoria ignored the snub. “I am starting for Carwithiel to-day,” she said, “for a week’s visit, and thought I would look in—after hearing what the postman told me— and pay my compliments.”
She talked for a minute or two on matters of no importance, asked after old Mrs. Venning’s health, and left, turning at the door and giving Humility a cheerful little nod.
“Taffy, you ought not to have spoken so.” Humility’s eyes were tearful.
Taffy’s conscience was already accusing him. He snatched up his cap and ran out.
“Miss Honoria!”
She did not turn.
“Miss Honoria—I am sorry!” He overtook her, but she turned her face away. “Forgive me!”
She halted, and after a moment looked him in the eyes. He saw then that she had been crying.
“The first time I came to see you he whipped me,” she said slowly.
“I am sorry; indeed I am.”