“No, not when the talk is of a serious matter.”
“Is anything wrong? Is Mr. Harford worse?” asked Helena, in alarm.
“Oh, no; he is much better, and already planning when to rejoin Sir William Waller. You think of him, but never trouble your head about me.”
His sigh was too theatrical to deceive her. She laughed merrily.
“That reproach comes with an ill grace from your lips,” she retorted. “Did I not walk with you, and talk with you, sir, this very afternoon for an hour by the clock?”
“It will be our last walk,” said Humphrey, gloomily.
“What do you mean?” she asked, and somehow she dropped her thread and let the wheel stand idle.
“I am going away to-morrow, with Dr. Harford,” said Humphrey, intently watching the little girlish face, and hailing with great delight the look of trouble that dawned in it.
“But why?” she faltered.
“It is because I love you that I go,” he said, eagerly. “Because I must move heaven and earth to get into favour with your guardian. Helena, tell me, could you ever wed one who, till this war ends, is like to be a half-ruined man? I am ashamed to propose such a marriage, but I love you with my whole heart. We are alike homeless and forlorn. Give me the right to shield and protect you, and I will spend my life in making you happy.”