CHAPTER VII.
The girl was almost as taken aback as he was.
‘Is this you, Fred?’ she said, in a tone of the utmost astonishment. ‘What have you done to yourself? I hardly knew you.’
But he only asked again,—
‘Why have you come? What do you want with me? I thought our acquaintanceship was at an end.’
‘I have not come to ask anything of you, Fred,’ said Rhoda, in a reproachful voice. ‘I think you might know that without my telling you. I am here as your friend only. I heard that you were in trouble, and I wanted to see if I could be of any use to you.’
‘Thank you, thank you,’ he replied nervously. ‘It is kind of you to have thought of it. Won’t you sit down?’
Rhoda seated herself on one of the rush-bottomed chairs, whilst Frederick took another as far as possible from her.
‘What is it that I can do for you?’ he commenced, in a stiff voice.
‘Nothing,’ replied the girl, ‘only tell me about yourself. Is it true that you are a widower? I am so sorry for you! And why are you living in this place? What have you to do with a training college?’