"No, no, no," she sobbed.
"Kate," he said, "come back with me to mother. It is the only way. I daren't leave you here an hour longer."
"But, Griff, I can't! Think of how your mother would take it if—— No; I can't! I won't!"
"It's not safe for you here, child; and you are coming," he said peremptorily.
She yielded at last. There did, indeed, seem to be no other way, and she could not bear to let Griff leave her. So together they set off across that well-known strip of heath, Griff leading Lassie by the bridle. Mrs. Lomax was just going out at the Manor gates when they arrived.
"Mother," said Griff, simply, "I have brought Kate to you. You will not bother her with questions, will you? She is tired and ill, and I'll tell you all about it later, as I promised. Will you take her upstairs, and get her to lie down a bit?"
Mrs. Lomax, feeling that some grave trouble was in the air, turned without a word. She took Kate up to her own room, and, because Griff had asked it, she would not let her make excuse of any kind, but forced her to lie down on the bed, with its dimity hangings and its quaint, old-world fragrance of lavender.
"Get to sleep if you can, my dear; you look wearied, and it will be the best thing for you," she said, and went downstairs to Griff.
He was turning a sheet of blue foolscap over and over in his hands. It had come while he was away, and was lying on the hall table when he followed the women indoors. He passed it over to his mother.