‘Oh no; I’m quite well—only—’
‘Only overcome—I don’t wonder—my dear—can you walk quietly home with me?’
‘Yes, please.’
Nothing was said till they had passed the ‘idle corner,’ where men and half-grown lads smoked their pipes in anything but Sunday trim; and stared at the lady making her exit, till they were through the short street with shop windows closed, and a strong atmosphere of cooking, and had come into the quiet lane leading to the paddock. Then Lady Merrifield laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder very gently, and said, ‘It was too much for you, my dear, you are not quite strong yet.’
‘Oh yes; I’m well. Only I am so very—very miserable,’ and the gust of sobs and tears rushed on her again.
‘Dear child, I should like to be able to help you!’
‘You can’t! I’ve done it! And—and they’ll all be against me always—Uncle Regie and all!’
‘Uncle Regie was very much hurt, but I’m sure he will forgive you when he sees how sorry you are. You know we all hope this is going to be a fresh start. I am sure you were deceived.’
‘Yes,’ said Dolores. ‘I never could have thought he—Uncle Alfred—was such a dreadful man.’
‘I expect that since he lost your mother’s influence and help he may have sunk lower than when you had seen him before. Did your father give you any directions about him?’