Perhaps next week if the frost held. She tried to withdraw her hand. Oh, well, then, to-morrow; certainly, to-morrow.
"You may rely on me to take care of them," said Captain Pratt, still holding her hand. He obliged her to look at him. His hard eyes met her frightened blue ones. "You may rely on my discretion entirely—in all matters," he said, meaningly.
Lady Newhaven winced, and her hand trembled violently in his.
He pressed the shrinking little hand, let it go, and went away.
CHAPTER XLVIII
"Le temps apporte, emporte, mais ne rapporte pas."
"May I come in?" said the Bishop, tapping at Hester's door.
"Do come in."
Hester was lying propped up by many cushions on a sofa in the little sitting-room leading out of her bedroom. She looked a mere shadow in the fire-light.