"Yes."
"Hide the note, so that no one sees it, and give it into Mr. Gregg's hands. Tell him I hope he will comprehend it, but that I was too ill to write it more elaborately."
No one noticed me as I left the house, and I pursued the road to Hallam, my head and thoughts full. Suppose Mr. Edwin Barley should meet and question me! I knew that I should make a poor hand at deception: besides being naturally open, mamma had brought me up to be so very candid and truthful. I had crushed the note inside my glove, having no better place of concealment,—suppose he should seize my hand and find it! And if the gentleman I was going to see should not be at home, what was I to do then? Bring the note back to Selina, or leave it? I ought to have asked her.
"Well, my little maid, and where are you off to?"
The salutation proceeded from Mr. Martin, who had come right upon me at a turning of the road. My face grew hot as I answered him.
"I am out for a walk, sir."
"But this is rather far to come alone. You are close upon Hallam."
"My Aunt Selina knows it, sir," I said, trembling lest he should stop me, or order me to walk back with him.
"Oh, very well," he answered, good-naturedly. "How is she to-day?"
"She is not any better, sir," I replied. And he left me, telling me I was not to lose myself.