But Simpson didn't leave me as usual.
"What is the matter, Simpson? Is there anything you wish to say?"
"Well, sir, as you are going to Cornwall, I thought—that is—you see, there might not be room at Mr. Lethbridge's house for me; but the little hut on the cliff is still empty, and I could sleep there."
"You want to go, do you, Simpson?"
"Well, sir——"
"All right," I laughed, "you be ready to come with me." Whereupon he hurried away with a glad look in his eyes.
Isabella met me at the station on Christmas Eve. It was about five o'clock when the train drew up, and when I stepped on the platform she sobbed like one overcome.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"I—I was afraid you would not come—afraid lest something should happen."
"Why, what should happen?"