“—or that you are absurdly proud.”
Kitty hung her head.
Hilda gave a little nod of understanding.
“Kitty,” she said kindly, “won’t you trust me and let me protect you? I’ve never had any one to protect except myself. Come and sit beside me.”
The younger girl came slowly over to the couch, faltered, and fell on her knees, crying—“And no one has ever protected me, or wanted to do it, before.”
Hilda took her in her arms—strong shapely arms they were.
“Poor little soul!” she whispered; “can’t you see not only that I want you to stay here but that for your own safety’s sake you must stay here until, at least, you know something of London, and have found employment and made friends? When all that has happened, you shall be free to choose as you think best, but till then you’re my prisoner, whether you like it or not!” After a little while Kitty said tremulously, “Don’t be offended, Hilda, but—but if only you would allow me to—to pay my share.”
“Well,” answered Miss Risk in a most business-like tone, assumed mainly to satisfy the other, “we may come to terms later on—if you promise now to be my guest for a month.”
“I never knew there was a girl like you in the world!”
“No more there is!” said Hilda cheerfully.