Boy.
I have brought this letter myself, but I won’t come in, as I could not bear to see your kind face just now.”
He put this epistle in with the bank notes and sealed the envelope,—then anxious to be rid of the now hateful money and put temptation away from him as far as possible, he took a hansom and drove to Hans Place. The servant who opened the door looked pale and flurried, and her eyes were red as if she had been crying.
“Give this to Miss Leslie, please,” he said, holding out the packet.
“Miss Leslie is very ill, sir,’ said the girl. “I do not think she will be able to read any letters to-day.”
Boy’s heart almost stood still.
“Very ill? Since when?
“Since this morning, sir. She was taken quite sudden-like.”
Boy uttered a little cry. His fault! His fault! If his old friend died, it would be his fault!
“Give her that,” he repeated sternly between his set teeth. “If she is not able to receive it, give it to Major Desmond. He will understand. And—when Miss Letty gets better, if she can hear a message, will you say that Boy left his love?”