She loosed his hand, made a quick movement towards the little door at the end of the counter, and held it open for him to pass in.
It was a painful position for one so full of chivalrous respect for women, and the young man stood trying to think of what to say to release himself in the best way from a situation that he would have looked upon as ludicrous, only that it was so full of pain.
“You are shrinking from me!” she exclaimed. “Pray, pray, don’t do that, Mr Linnell. Have I not suffered enough? Come in; let me talk to you. Let me try and explain.”
“It is impossible,” he said at last sternly. “Miss Clode, believe me that I will never breathe a syllable about this to a soul, but—”
“Oh, you foolish, foolish boy!” she exclaimed, bursting into an hysterical fit of laughter. “How could you think such a thing as that? Is there no love a poor, weak, elderly woman like I am, could bear for one she has known from a boy, but such as filled your mind just then? There, there!” she cried, wiping her eyes quickly. “I have spoken wildly to you. Forgive me. I am a poor lonely woman, who fixed her affection upon you, Richard Linnell, farther back than you can imagine. Listen, and let me tell you,” she said in a soft, low voice, as she came round to the front of the counter, and laid her little thin hand upon his arm. “You lost your mother long ago, and have never known what it was to have a mother’s love; but, for years past, your every movement has been watched by me; I have suffered when you have been in pain; I have rejoiced when I knew that you were happy.”
“My dear Miss Clode!” he exclaimed, in a half-wondering, half-pitying tone.
“Yes—yes,” she panted; “speak to me like that. You pay me for much suffering and misery; but don’t—pray don’t despise me for all this.”
“Despise you? No!” he said warmly; “but you do surprise me, Miss Clode. I know you have always spoken very kindly to me.”
“And you have always thought it almost an impertinence,” she said sadly. “It has been. This is impertinent of me, you think, too, but I shall not presume. Mr Linnell, I have something to say to you, and when that is said, I shall keep my distance again, and it will be a secret between us.”
“Why, Miss Clode,” said Richard, trying to smile cheerfully, “you are making up quite a romance out of one of your own books.”