Lord Mablethorpe sat down on the other side of her, and took her hand. “I should think not, indeed! But is there no one who will take your part?”
Her hand trembled a little in his, but she did not withdraw it. “There is only my Aunt Honoria, and she lives such a long way away, and is a great invalid beside and could not come to London. Papa is a little afraid of her, and she did write to him but—but he does not care much for letters. I thought if could only run away to aunt, she would hide me from Pap and Mama, or—or contrive something. But then I remembered that I haven’t any money, and it all seemed hopeless, an,—and that’s why I cried.”
Over her head Adrian’s and Deborah’s eyes met. “Deb, can’t we—? It’s horrible to think of such a child’s being tie to that devil!”
The hand stirred in his. “Oh, do you mean you will help me I thought no one could!” gasped Miss Laxton.
“If she goes back to the Laxtons she will be lost!” said Adrian.
“Yes, I think she will,” admitted Miss Grantham. “I must say I should like to throw a little rub in Filey’s way.”
“We must take her away from here,” said Adrian decidedly He bent his head over that other fair one. “You will be quit safe, with Miss Grantham, you know. She will take care of you, and we will contrive to convey you to your aunt.”
Miss Laxton sat up, a tinge of colour creeping into he cheeks. “Oh, will you really hide me? Oh, I did not think anyone cared what became of me! How good you are! He’s very kind!”
Adrian coloured too, and said in a low voice: “It’s no such thing! Anyone would be glad to be of service to you! You may trust us to take care of you. I promise you, Filey shall no pester you again!”
“I feel so safe with you!” sighed Miss Laxton, lifting worshipful eyes to his face.