Only, as they descended the winding road that led down to Fairharbour and a sudden clamour of church-bells arose through the evening mist, Jake glanced again at the girl who was walking rather wearily by Bunny's side, and said, "Wouldn't you like to go to Church now? I'll see to the youngster."
She shook her head. "Thank you very much; I don't think so."
"Oh, go on, Maud!" exclaimed Bunny, emerging from his reverie. "I don't want you if Jake will stay. I'd sooner have Jake. He doesn't fuss like you."
"I'll get him to bed," Jake went on, as if he had not spoken. "You can trust me to do that, you know. I won't let him talk too much either. Say, Miss Brian, it's a good offer; you'd better close with it."
She heard the smile in the words; and because of it she found she could not refuse. "But I don't like to give you so much trouble," she said.
"You give me pleasure," he answered simply.
At the gate of the churchyard he stopped. "I'll say good-bye," he said. "But don't hurry back! I shall stay as long as I am wanted."
She knew that she could rely upon him in that respect as upon no one else in the world. She gave him her hand with another low word of thanks.
"May I walk to the door with you?" he said, and drew Bunny's chair to one side.
It would have been churlish to refuse. She suffered him in silence.