A slight change passed over John’s face.
“You are not happy at home, May, are you?” he asked.
“I am most unhappy. Mrs. Churchill makes me miserable about that wretched Mr. Henderson.”
“It is all right then; when can you start for town—to-morrow?”
“To-morrow?” repeated May, startled.
“Yes, the sooner the better, for then the sooner I can join you. I will write to the Miss Websters at once, and give you their address—and May, I have brought fifty pounds with me for you.”
“Oh! I can not take that,” answered May, with a sudden blush.
“My dear one, you must! You are my little cousin, you know, until you are my wife, and my little cousin must pay her way. Here it is, May, and do not be foolish. Now what train will you start by to-morrow? I can not, I am afraid, see you off on account of the confounded gossip it would cause.”
“Oh, no, you must not do that. I will go in what train I can get quickly away by—and you will join me, John?” she added, wistfully.
“I swear it,” said John Temple, earnestly, “and I will write to you. But be cautious, dear May, for both our sakes. This is the Websters’ address. Drive straight from the station to their house.”