'She will not do that if she cares.'
'No, but I can't help fearing. Tell her how I love her. Talk to her about me. Promise me.' And he held out his hand.
I took it. I felt what a hard promise it was that he called on me to make—how little he guessed what he was asking of me. I knew how much it would cost me to keep it. A dread came over me like a shadow of the trouble that was to come through this.
But I would not listen. Cuthbert loved her, and she—yes, she loved him. He was going away, and he trusted me.
I only said two words, and then I had pledged myself, and shut the door on the long hope of years.
We were within the walls now. Cuthbert, with a few fervent words of thanks, turned towards Clifford's house, and I went home.
Granny gave a little cry of joy when I opened the kitchen door.
'My dear,' she said, hardly waiting to greet me, 'the very thing I have been wishing for, is for you to come home. We're in sad trouble, Willie. Do you know where Cuthbert is?'
'He came back with me just now.'
'I'm thankful for that. One couldn't tell what the poor boy might do. Willie, my dear, he and father had words,' said Granny, coming close and whispering mysteriously. 'It's about the money in the teapot, and it's all my fault.'