“Miss Asquith,” he said, hurriedly, “I must not stop to explain. Will you remember, whatever may happen, that I am always about? even when you don’t see anything of me, I’m near. Don’t let yourself be frightened; whatever happens, I am always near.”
“It would be better to tell me what it is. Then I could not be frightened,” said Hetty, with as much calm as she could muster. But before he could reply, he no less than she started at the sound of a step—one step and no more, at which she clutched his arm with terror unspeakable, and he looked quickly round with a look of alarm in which there was no counterfeit. There was but one step, which was a thing to curdle the blood, as it seemed to Hetty, more than any succession of footsteps—one single stealthy step and no more.
“Who is there? Speak,” cried the young doctor, with a voice which was not loud, but seemed to penetrate the intense morning stillness like a knife. And then, while Hetty stood speechless, there suddenly appeared round the corner of the house the paltry figure of Mrs. Mills the housekeeper, in extremely simple morning apparel, with a scared look in her face.
“Oh, Mr. Darrell, is it you?” she cried in her turn, in a voice full of relief.
It would have been embarrassing for an older and more experienced young woman than Hetty to find herself discovered by the housekeeper in close colloquy with young Mr. Darrell, in the early morning before the house was astir. But Hetty was too young for any such feeling. She was frightened, but relieved beyond measure. It is not pleasant to think that even the housekeeper stands and looks in at your window in the grey of the morning before any one is awake. But still this seemed to Hetty, somehow, more possible than if it had been the doctor making mysterious, impossible journeys round the house. Her hand dropped from that clutch upon his arm. She felt restored at once to the practicable world.
“I am trying to persuade Miss Asquith,” he said, “that she heard nothing worse than myself passing through the garden, and that she must not be surprised if she hears me again.”
The woman, who looked pale, as if she had been up all night, melted into an uneasy smile. “No, no, she mustn’t be afraid. There are a many noises about this house,” she said.
“Nothing more than the doctor going his rounds, late or early,” said Darrell; “you will believe Mrs. Mills? And now go back to your room, and I hope you won’t let me disturb your rest again. Remember,” he said, with emphasis, “I’m always about. I’m always near.”
“You’ve got your window all open, miss,” said the housekeeper. “Bless me! it should always be well fastened and the shutters shut. I must give the housemaid a piece of my mind.”
Hetty followed her in, unresisting, as she pushed into the privacy of the room, which on ordinary occasions the girl was jealous of exposing to vulgar eyes, with its little array of photographs and family treasures. Mrs. Mills took no notice of these, but she quickly shut and fastened the window. “It’s very early for you to be up. Don’t you know it’s very awkward for the servants, Miss Asquith, when a young lady takes to getting up at these unearthly hours?”