“Who was that went away from here?” he said huskily.
She told him, but not of her promise to send him over.
“I’ll go to her at once,” he said.
“No, no, Pierce, dear; she is not ill. Pray stay at home; there is really no need.”
“Why should I stay at home?” he said, looking at her suspiciously.
“I—I am not very well, dear. You have been so dull, it has upset me. I wish you would stay in with me this evening; I feel so nervous and lonely.”
“Yes, I will,” he said; “but I must go there first.”
“No, no, dear; don’t, please, don’t go,” she pleaded, as she caught his arm. “Please stay. She is not in the least ill, and I want you to stop. There, I’ll make some tea directly, and we’ll sit over it and have a long cosy chat, and it will do us both good, dear.”
“Jenny,” he cried harshly, “you want to keep me at home.”
“Yes, dear, I told you so; but don’t speak in that harsh way; you frighten me.”