The curate--as he was once more--saw how she tried to fight down the hysteria, and wisely refrained from speech. A single word might cause the primitive emotions to burst with volcanic force through the imposed customs of civilisation. Considering the joyful news of Jim Kaimes' resurrection and the trouble of the attempted blackmail, it was natural that she should suddenly betray feminine weakness. She was but a woman when all was said and done. Leah would have repudiated this conclusion with scorn, as she had small regard for her sex; but a woman she was at the moment, unstrung, foolish, wild with dread that the unforeseen might happen. Lionel moved silently to the door. In a moment she was at his side, reaching him with the bound of a pantheress.
"Don't be angry," she panted, laying her hand on his arm; "but you do worry me so, and if you knew--if you really knew----" She gasped and bit her lip, to prevent an unguarded tongue blurting out the whole.
"There, there!" He patted her hand, and she could have slapped him for the caress, which revealed his knowledge of her weakness. "It's all right--all right. Be calm! There, there!"
"Oh, Lord, what tact!" and so disgusted was she with the stupidity of the man that her nerves relaxed "I say, Lionel," with an artificial laugh, "aren't you sorry for yourself?"
"Not in the least," he replied promptly. "I am no Jacob to usurp the heritage of Esau. High or low, we can all serve God in our degrees. Ask Jim to make me vicar of Firmingham."
"I will, if you promise not to preach."
"How would you have me earn my salary, then?" he asked humorously, and glad that she appeared more composed. "Now I advise you to lie down."
"Yes," she assented submissively; "I will lie down. And you?"
"I go at once to see Mr. Hall, about getting Jim set free. Good-bye, Duchess;" and in a moment he was gone, anxious to escape further irresponsible speech.
"Duchess!" echoed Leah, staring at the closed door. "Duchess!"