"There is no appearance of the--the person who annoyed you returning," said I, looking backward up the long narrow lane we were descending.
"Little chance is there of that," said she, bitterly; "he will return no more."
"You are certain of that?"
"Too fatally certain!"
"You have quarrelled, then?"
"No; it is worse than a quarrel," said she, with her pale lips quivering.
"He is an enemy?"
"My enemy?--my tempter--my evil spirit--he is my husband!"
"Pardon me; I did not mean to be curious, when I have no right to be so; but here is the highway; I too am going towards Whitchurch--my way to the barracks lies in that direction; and I shall have much pleasure in escorting you to your home, if you will permit me," said I, seized by an impulse of gallantry, humanity, or both, which I ere long had cause to repent.
"Sir, I thank you, and shall detain you no longer," she replied, hurriedly; "I am something of a wanderer now, and my rooms are at the ivy-clad inn by the roadside."