"You needn't sit up for me, Ellen," she said to the surprised girl as they went out; "it may be late before I get home; bolt the back door, I'll take the key to the front."
He helped her into the trap, and in silence they drove down to The Bow.
XVI
Aurora Googe spoke for the first time when Octavius left her at the door of Champ-au-Haut.
"Tave, don't leave me; I want you to be near, somewhere in the hall, if she is in the library. I want a witness to what I must say and—I trust you. But don't come into the room no matter what is said."
"I won't, Aurora, and I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm just going to drive to the stable and send the boy down for the mail, and I'll be right back. There's Aileen."
The girl answered the knock, and on recognizing who it was caught her breath sharply. She had not seen Mrs. Googe during the past month of misery and shame and excitement, and previous to that she had avoided Champney Googe's mother on account of the humiliation her love for the son had suffered at that son's hands—a humiliation which struck at the roots of all that was truest and purest in that womanhood, which was drying up the clear-welling spring of her buoyant temperament, her young enjoyment in life and living and all that life offers of best to youth—offers once only.
She started back at the sight of those dark eyes glowing with an unnatural fire, at the haggard face, its pallor accentuated by the white burnous. One thought had time to flash into consciousness before the woman standing on the threshold could speak: here was suffering to which her own was as a candle light to furnace flame.
"I've come to see Mrs. Champney, Aileen; is she in the library?"