It was evident that Mr. Richard understood this too, for his face clouded.
Chris held out her hand to him with a smile. He took it in both his and held it for some seconds, while his wistful eyes gazed upon her face with a look of despair which touched her to the quick.
When she had withdrawn her hand and run along the path for a few paces, she heard again the weird, harsh sounds which seemed the only form of speech of which the poor fellow was capable. Glancing round, she saw that he was engaged in some sort of altercation with Stelfox over which he was getting very much excited. A few moments after, Stelfox left him and ran up to her.
“The poor young gentleman is in a great way, miss,” he said, “because he’s afraid he won’t see you again.”
Chris drew a sharp breath. This very thought had been troubling her.
“Can I see him again, Stelfox?” she asked, almost eagerly. “Would Mr. Bradfield allow it?”
One of the dry smiles peculiar to Stelfox for a moment expanded his features without brightening them.
“Maybe we won’t trouble him by enquiring, miss,” he said; “but if you would care to see Mr. Richard again, though he isn’t much of a companion for a young lady, I’m afraid, I could manage it. And I can warrant he won’t hurt you.”
“Oh, no, I’m sure of that! I wasn’t thinking of that!”
“It will be a great kindness, miss, if you’re not afraid,” said Stelfox, almost gratefully.