And May?
She started to her feet at the thought.
And Richard Linnell?
He would go on believing ill of her, and she would never stand up before him, listening as he asked her forgiveness for every doubt, never to be her husband, but ready then to look up to her as all that was pure and true.
May! She must save May. How, she knew not, but she must go to her. Something must be done.
Hurriedly dressing, she went out, and walked swiftly to her brother-in-law’s house, where the servant admitted her with no great show of respect, and she was shown into the drawing-room.
“I’ll tell my mistress you are here,” said the footman; and he went out, closing the door behind him rather loudly.
The effect was to make a little man jump up from the couch where he had been sleeping, with a loud exclamation.
“What is it? Who the—. Oh, it’s you, is it? Well, what do you want?”
“I came—I called to see May, Frank dear,” said Claire, trembling.