Nelly recognised him from a short distance, and went a little pale.
'Who is that with your sister?' asked Cicely.
'It is a man we knew in Manchester,—Doctor Howson.'
'Did you expect him?'
'Oh no.' After a minute she added—'He was at our wedding. I haven't seen him since.'
Cicely was sorry for her. But when the walkers met, Nelly greeted the young man very quietly. He himself was evidently moved. He held her hand a little, and gave her a quick, scrutinising look. Then he moved on beside her, and Cicely, in order to give Nelly the opportunity of talking to him for which she evidently wished, was forced to carry off Bridget, and endure her company patiently all the way home.
When Nelly and the doctor arrived, following close on the two in front,
Cicely cried out that Nelly must go and lie down at once till supper.
She looked indeed a deplorable little wraith; and the doctor, casting,
again, a professional eye on her, backed up Cicely.
Nelly smiled, resisted, and finally disappeared.
'You'll have to take care of her,' said Howson to Bridget. 'She looks to me as if she couldn't stand any strain.'
'Well, she's not going to have any. This place is quiet enough! She's been talking of munition-work, but of course we didn't let her.'