‘What wont let you?’
‘Fun!’ said Maurice, with a sob.
‘He is a rogue!’ cried Ulick, vehemently; ‘but a stout heart and good will can get him under yet. Think of what your brother says of making your father and mother happy!’
‘If I could do something to please them very, very much! Oh! if I could but learn to read all at once.’
‘You can read—anybody can read!’ said Ulick, pulling a book out of his pocket. ‘There! try.’
There was some laughing over this; and then Maurice leant out of window, and grew sleepy. They had descended into the wide basin of alluvial land through which the Baye dawdled its meandering course, and were just about to cross the first bridge about two miles from Bayford, when Maurice shouted, ‘There’s Sophy!—how funny.’
It was a tall figure, in deep mourning, slowly moving along the towing-path, intently gazing into the river; but so strange was it to see Sophy so far from home, that Ulick paused a moment ere calling to the driver to stop.
As he hastily wrenched open the door, she raised up her face, and he was shocked. She looked as if she had lived years of sorrow, and even Maurice was struck with consternation.
‘Sophy! Sophy!’ he cried, hanging round her. ‘I wouldn’t have gone without telling you, if I had thought you would mind it. Speak to me, Sophy!’
She could say nothing save a hoarse ‘Where?’ as with both arms she pressed him as if she could never let him go again.