He put his arm around her without comment; and again she yielded as a child might have yielded to the comfort of his support.
After some seconds he spoke, and she fancied his voice sounded rather grim.
"I am going your way," he said. "I will walk back with you."
Hope was crying to herself in the darkness, but she hoped he did not notice.
"I think I shall go and meet Ronnie," she said. "I don't want to go back. It—it's so lonely."
"I will come in with you," he returned.
"Oh, no!" she said quickly. "No! I mean—I mean—I don't want you to trouble any more about me. Indeed, I shall be all right."
He received the assurance in silence; and she began to wonder dolefully if she had offended him. Then, with abrupt kindliness, he set her mind at rest.
"Dry your eyes," he said, "and leave off crying, like a good child! Ronnie's at the club, and won't be home at present. I didn't know you were all alone, or I would have brought him along with me. That's better. Now, shall we make a move?"
He slung his horse's bridle on his arm and, still supporting her with the other, began to walk down the stony road. Hope made no further protest. She had always considered Ronnie's major a rather formidable person. She knew that Ronnie stood in awe of him, though she had always found him kind.