“Yes; Miss Carr bade me ask you to come with me to her house to-morrow.”
“I go to her house!” faltered Linny.
“Yes, dear, you will—will you not? I am sure it is important.”
“But I could not leave poor Steve.”
“It need not take long,” I said; “you will go and see what she wants?”
Linny looked at me in silence for a few moments, and there was something very dreamy in her face.
“If you think it right that I should go, Antony,” she said at last, “I will. Shall I speak to Stephen first?”
“No,” I said. “Hear first what she has to say.”
She promised, and I went down to my own room, glad to lay my aching head upon the pillow; where I soon fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming of my encounter with John Lister, and feeling again the heavy blow as we fell, and my head struck the broad, flat fender with a sickening crash, that seemed to be repeated again and again.