“Where is Mrs. Brady?” she asked, peering through the twilight in search of Nettie, who was, however, nowhere visible.
“She’s gone back to her room; if you want her, you’ll have to go there after her. She has never come down till to-night. She has not been to say quite right in her head ever since.”
“Perhaps she would rather be alone?”
“I don’t think it will make any differ one way or the other,” was the somewhat contemptuous answer which decided Grace on at once making her way to Nettie.
“Which is her room?” she inquired.
“Right opposite you when you get to the head of the stairs;” and thus directed, Grace without ceremony crossed the hall, ascended the staircase, and joined her friend.
She found Nettie pacing the apartment with slow, measured steps. Up and down, down and up, she marched like some animal on a chain, hopelessly, helplessly, wearily. Suddenly she stopped in this exercise.
“You ought not to stay here, Grace. I am no company for anybody now.”
“If I had wanted company I should have stayed where I was,” Grace answered. “I came here to see if I could not be of use to you, and I shall remain till I am quite satisfied I cannot be of any!”
“No one can help me,” said Nettie deliberately. Then finding Grace kept silence, she went on hurriedly to ask,—