"Miss Phœbe," said Tom.
"Yes, Tom?"
"You must try and help yourself a bit."
"I will, Tom. Tell me what to do."
"In half an hour we shall be in London streets. Then I must take you off the horse. We can't ride on it to your aunt's door. There are reasons."
"Very well, Tom."
"Do you think you will be able to walk a bit?"
"I will try, Tom—and you will help me?"
"That I will. I could carry you, but it would draw attention upon us. Perhaps we may get a cab. Then there will be no difficulty."
"Tom, I will do everything you tell me."