“No; my path lies here,” she said quietly. “Antony, I want your help to-morrow.”
“Yes: what shall I do?” I asked.
“Will you ask Miss Hallett to come here to me—will you bring her?”
“Bring Linny Hallett here?” I exclaimed in surprise.
“Yes: bring her here,” she said softly; and there was a peculiar tone in her voice as she spoke. “And now about yourself. Do you feel well enough to go home? Shall one of the servants see you safely back?”
“Oh no,” I said; “I am better now. I shall take a cab. But I do not feel comfortable to leave you alone.”
“You need not fear,” she said quietly. “The house will be closed as soon as you leave. To-morrow I shall take steps for my protection.”
I left her soon after, thinking about her request, and as far as I could make out she intended to keep Linny with her, feeling that Lister would not dare to face her again, when the woman he had sought to injure had been made her companion.
Still I did not feel satisfied, and the only consoling thing was to be found in Lister’s own words, that he had sent for Miss Carr’s relative; and, in the hope that he might soon arrive, I reached home and went up at once to see Hallett, who looked very ill, but smiled sadly, as I sat down by his side.
“Better,” he said; “I think I’m better, but I don’t know, Antony: sometimes I feel as if it would be happier if I could be altogether at rest.”