David's face shaded with sudden dismay.
"You have n't got to go back to your Aunt Jane's?" he demanded fiercely.
Polly's head gave the answer. At the moment speech seemed impossible.
"You shall not!" he burst out. "If Dr. Dudley lets you go and live with those—those heathen, I'll never speak to him again as long as I live!"
"Why, David Collins!" Polly's gentle voice was grieved and full of astonishment.
The pale, blue-eyed lad seemed to have vanished, and another to be standing there before her. His eyes, grown suddenly dark, set in that flaming face, gave him a most unnatural look.
"I shall have to go—Aunt Jane says I must," she went on sadly. "There's no other way."
"There would be another way, if I was a man!" he raged. "Oh, oh! I wish I were! I wish I were!" he cried passionately; and throwing himself upon the couch, face downward, his shoulders shook with sobs.
Leonora bent her head on her arm, and wept silently.
Polly was endeavoring to soothe them both when Dr. Dudley came in.