"Of course I am happy," she made answer. "What more could I have to wish for? But, Isabel, you—you!"
"Ah, never mind me!" Isabel said. She rose with the movement of one who would shield another from harm. "You ought to be in bed, sweetheart. Shall I come and tuck you up?"
"Come and finish the night with me!" whispered Dinah. "We shall both be happy then."
She scarcely expected that Isabel would accede to her desire, but it seemed that Isabel could refuse her nothing. She turned, holding Dinah closely to her.
"My good angel!" she murmured tenderly. "What should I do without you? It is always you who come to lift me out of my inferno."
She left the letters forgotten on the window-sill. By the simple outpouring of her love, Dinah had drawn her out of her place of torment; and she led her now, leaning heavily upon her, through the passage to her own room.
Biddy crept after them like a wise old cat alert for danger. "She'll sleep now, Miss Dinah darlint," she murmured. "Ye won't be anxious at all, at all? It's meself that'll be within call."
"No, no! Go to your own room and sleep, Biddy!" Isabel said. "We are both going to do the same."
She sank into the great double bed that Dinah had found almost alarmingly capacious, with a sigh of exhaustion, and Dinah slipped in beside her. They clasped each other, each with a separate sense of comfort.
Biddy tucked up first one side, then the other, with a whispered blessing for each.