Anything that might have been said further by Cris, was interrupted by the appearance of Miss Trevlyn. She was standing on the steps.
"Where have you been, Maude?"
"To Trevlyn Farm," was Maude's truthful answer. "You would not let me go during the day, so I have been now. It seemed to me that I must see him before he was put underground."
"See him!" cried Miss Trevlyn.
"Yes. It was all I went for. I did not see my aunt. George, thank you for bringing me home," she continued, stepping in. "Good-night. I would have given all I possess for it never to have happened."
She burst into a flood of tears as she spoke—the result, no doubt, of her previous fright and excitement, as well as her sorrow for Mr. Ryle's unhappy fate. George wrung her hand, and lifted his hat to Miss Trevlyn as he turned away.
But ere he had well plunged into the dark avenue, there came swift and stealthy steps behind him. A soft hand was laid upon him, and a soft voice spoke, broken by tears:
"Oh, George, I am so sorry! I have felt all day as if it would almost be my death. I think I could have given my own life to save his."
"I know, I know! I know how you will feel it," replied George, utterly unmanned by the true and unexpected sympathy.
It was Mrs. Chattaway.