It was not long. They found they had little to say to each other, since the one subject of which both were thinking, each from a different point of view, was tacitly barred. And Hillyer soon saw that Marion was sorely in need of rest.
“Go to bed now, dear girl!” he said presently. “And please take good care of yourself. I want to see the color back in your cheeks when I return.”
“I will, Robert,” she answered. “I’ll be quite all right in a day or two.”
“And you––don’t really think of staying here all winter?” he ventured to ask diffidently.
“No,” she replied. “That’s hardly possible.”
“Then good-by––until you hear my horn in the road down yonder.”
“Good-by, Robert, and good luck!”
She gave him both her hands, for a moment, with a tenderness that lingered with him far on his way.