‘Obey! Jump!’ he cried impatiently, his eyes afire.
She knelt, seated herself, dropped forward. Tarrant caught her in his arms.
‘You heavy! a feather weight! Why, I can carry you; I could run with you.’
And he did carry her through the brushwood, away into the shadow of the trees.
At dinner-time, Mrs. Morgan and her daughter were alone. They agreed to wait a quarter of an hour, and sat silent, pretending each to be engaged with a book. At length their eyes met.
‘What does it mean, Jessica?’ asked the mother timidly.
‘I’m sure I don’t know. It doesn’t concern us. She didn’t mean to be back, by what she said.’
‘But—isn’t it rather—?’
‘Oh, Nancy is all right. I suppose she’ll have something to tell you, to-night or to-morrow. We must have dinner; I’m hungry.’
‘So am I, dear.—Oh, I’m quite afraid to think of the appetites we’re taking back. Poor Milly will be terrified.’