He calmed the resentful beast, and they neared the house in The Gore at a quick trot.
"You don't think she has ever spoken to any one before—not so, do you, Tave? not to Louis ever?—"
"No, I don't, Aurora. Louis Champney wouldn't have stood that—I know him well enough for that; but she might have hinted at a something, and it's my belief she did. But don't you fret, Aurora; she'll never speak again—I'd take my oath on that—and if I dared, I'd say I wish Almighty God would strike her dumb for saying what she has."
They had reached the house. She lifted her face to the light burning in her bedroom.
"Oh, my boy—my boy—" she moaned beneath her breath. Octavius helped her out, and holding the reins in one hand, with the other supported her to the steps; her knees gave beneath her.—"Oh, where is he to-night—what shall I do!—Think for me, Tave, act for me, or I shall go mad—"
Octavius leaned to the carriage and threw the reins around the whipstock.
"Aurora," he grasped her firmly by the arm, "give me the key."
She handed it to him; he opened the door; led her in; called loudly for Ellen; and when the frightened girl came hurrying down from her room, he bade her see to Mrs. Googe while he went for the doctor.