“I suppose your friends come to see you very often?”
“No; I don’t have many visitors.”
“Perhaps they don’t know where you are. You know you promised to give me your address; but you never did. You left me to find it out as best I could for myself.”
“It—it is very kind of you to come,” said the girl, flushing, “How did you find me out?” she asked, anxiously.
“I asked Mrs. Mainwaring for your aunt’s address, and went from Garstone to her house.”
“You went all the way to my aunt’s!”
“I would have gone to the world’s end to find you!” He left his seat and stood by the mantel-piece, bending over her. “Didn’t you know I loved you? You were kind to me that day at the flower show. You promised me your address, you told me the train you were going by.” She was trying to stop him; but it was out of her power now. “Then, when I said I would see you off, as your own words had given me the right to do, you gave me a cruel snub. And then you let Harry see you off, and—and travel up to town with you, they say.”
She had risen, and was confronting him with bright, eager eyes.
“I did not let him—I did not expect him. He came, and I could not prevent it.”
“Is that true, my darling?” cried George, passionately. She was standing, with upturned face, close to him. He threw his arms round her.