She turned beside him at once. Their talk went back to Isabel. They spoke of her tenderly, as one nearing the end of a long and wearisome journey, and as they approached the little white house on the heath above the sea, Dinah gave somewhat hesitating utterance to a thought that had been persistently in her mind of late.
"Do you," she said, speaking with evident effort, "think that—Eustace should be sent for?"
"Does she want him?" said Scott.
"I don't know. She never speaks of him. But then—that may be—for my sake." Dinah's voice was very low and not wholly free from distress. "And again—it may be on my account he is keeping away. She hasn't seen him for these two months—not since we left Perrythorpe."
"No," Scott said gravely. "I know."
Dinah was silent for a brief space; then she braced herself for another effort. "Scott, I—don't want to be—in anyone's way. If—if she would like to see him, and if he—doesn't want to come—because of me, I—must go, that's all."
She spoke with resolution, and pausing at the gate that led off the heath into the garden looked him straight in the face.
"I want you," she said rather breathlessly, "to find out if—that is so.
And if it is—if it is—"
"My dear, you needn't be afraid," Scott said. "I am quite sure that Eustace wouldn't wish to drive you away. He might be doubtful as to whether you would care to meet him again so soon, but if you had no objection to his coming, he wouldn't deliberately stay away on his own account. You know—I don't think you've ever realized it—he loves Isabel."
"Then he must want to come," she said quickly. "Oh, Scott, do you know—I said a dreadful—a cruel—thing to him—that last day. If he really loves her, it must have hurt him—terribly."