“Perhaps you will get well if you don’t expose yourself.”
“No, I won’t, I shall die, and it is better to die with some one who will treat me well,” she said mournfully.
“Yes, if you have friends it is better to be with them,” said Mary.
After another week of anxiety Irene was ready to return to New York. She had heard nothing from Max or her father. She saw but one way open to her, and that was to go to Scott and ask his forgiveness. She did not know that he would grant it, but she would tell him how ill she was, and perhaps he would not turn her away.
CHAPTER XXXII.
A BITTER ATONEMENT.
Night had fallen over the great city. The snow was falling fast, and the wind blowing with a fury that drove pedestrians on at a rapid pace. Among the many who thronged the streets was a woman ascending with slow and uneven steps the broad marble steps that led to the home of Scott Wilmer. She was closely veiled and dressed in black, and as she reached out to ring the door bell her hand shook with the cold. The great hall door opened in answer to the clear ring of the bell, and the woman was invited to enter. How bright and warm it seemed as she stepped on the soft carpet, after her wearisome walk through the snow.
“What can I do for you?” asked the boy who stood in waiting.
He had been taught to address all strangers in a polite manner, even though they were plainly dressed.