They reached the gate at the end of the avenue, and Salome stopped suddenly, as the lights from the front windows flashed out on the lawn.
“Go in, and leave me.”
She threw herself on the sward, under one of the elm-trees, and leaned her head against its trunk.
“I shall do no such thing, unless you desire the entire household to comment upon your reckless conduct.”
“Oh, Dr. Grey, I care little now what the whole world thinks or says! Let me be quiet, or I shall go mad.”
“No; come into the house, and sing something to compensate me for the anxiety and fatigue you have cost me. I do not often ask a favor of you, and certainly in this instance you will not refuse to grant my request.”
She did not reply, and he bent down and softly stroked the hair that was damp with dew and sea-fog.
The long-pent storm broke in convulsive sobs, and she trembled from head to foot, while tears poured over her burning cheeks.
“Poor child! Can you not confide in me?”
“Dr. Grey, will you forget all that has passed to-day? Will you try never to think of it again?”