"Why, Mr. Morton!" exclaimed Miss Warren, "you are not going up so soon?"
"Yes, thank you," I managed to say cheerily. "Invalids must be prudent.
I'm only resting on the landing a little."
"I found it rather cool and damp, and so came back for a shawl," she explained, and passed on up to her room, for she seemed a little embarrassed at meeting me on the stairs. In her absence I made a desperate effort to go on, but found that I would fall. I must wait till she returned, and then crawl up the best I could.
"You see I'm prudence personified," I laughed, as she came back. "I'm taking it so leisurely that I have even sat down about it."
"Are you not overtaxing yourself?" she asked gently. "I fear—"
"Oh, no, indeed—will sleep all the better for a change. Mr. Hearn is waiting for you, and the twilight isn't. Don't worry; I'll surpass Samson in a week."
She looked at me keenly, and hesitatingly passed down the dusky stairway. Then I turned and tried to crawl on, eager to gain my room without revealing my condition; but when I reached the topmost stair it seemed that I could not go any further if my life depended on it. With an irritable imprecation on my weakness, I sank down on the topmost step.
"Mr. Morton," said a low voice, "why did you try to deceive me? You have gone far beyond your strength."
"You here—you of all others," I broke out, in tones of exasperation. "I meant that your first evening should be without a shadow, and have failed, as I now fail in everything. Call Reuben."
"Let me help you?" she pleaded, in the same hurried voice.