"Won't the train be off soon?" she asked. "Yes. I am coming with you."
"Coming with me? Why?"
"I'm not going to allow you to walk alone along that dark road from Deepfields Station at this time of night," he said.
"Oh, I shall be quite all right; you really mustn't come. You will be so tired, and it is not at all necessary. Please don't come."
But he would take no refusal. There would be plenty of time for him to catch the last train, he said, and Marjorie felt sure that, when he had once made up his mind about anything, there would be no possibility of moving him from it.
They talked of the letter most of the way from the station, and as they went through Daisy Bank she pointed out the dark cottage where the still form of the old woman was lying on the bed upstairs.
"How strange to think that my letter has been near you all this time!" he said.
Then they got to Colwyn House, and at the gate, he said good-bye. But before he left her he took her hand between both his own, and said in a whisper, as he held it for a moment—
"Thank you for all you have done for me to-day."
The next instant he was gone, and Marjorie let herself in with her latchkey. She found that Mr. and Mrs. Holtby were having supper. They wanted her to join them, but she said she was tired, and would rather go to bed.