I felt a good deal hurt, but comforted myself by saying she could not mean it, and sat down again to the Seven Champions.
CHAPTER XIV. THE GHOST.
I saw no more of Clara, but sat and read until I grew cold and tired, and wished very much that Mrs. Wilson would come. I thought she might have forgot me in the hurry, and there I should have to stay all night. After my recent escape, however, from a danger so much worse, I could regard the prospect with some composure. A full hour more must have passed; I was getting sleepy, and my candle had burned low, when at length Mrs Wilson did make her appearance, and I accompanied her gladly.
‘I am sure you want your tea, poor boy!’ she said.
‘Tea! Mrs. Wilson,’ I rejoined. ‘It’s bed I want. But when I think of it, I am rather hungry.’
‘You shall have tea and bed both,’ she answered kindly. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had such a dull evening, but I could not help it.’
‘Indeed, I’ve not been dull at all,’ I answered—‘till just the last hour or so.’
I longed to tell her all I had been about, for I felt guilty; but I would not betray Clara.
‘Well, here we are!’ she said, opening the door of her own room. ‘I hope I shall have peace enough to see you make a good meal.’