"Yes."
He kissed her hand first and then her forehead, and left her.
CHAPTER VI.
THE TYRANNICAL PAST.
When Mrs. Grant went out of the drawing-room she sought and found Mr. Grey in the waiting-room off the grand entrance-hall. She closed the door, and going up to the banker in haste said:
"I want to have a few private words with you, Mr. Grey."
"I am completely at your service, Mrs. Grant," answered the banker, in his most amiable manner.
He looked worn and haggard to-day. The strain was telling on him. He now knew what sleepless nights were, and days haunted by the phantoms of memory, and slight rustling sounds of hideous import. He had learned to start suddenly and look hastily over his shoulder. It was not the dread of the hangman disordered his peace, but the faint rustle of a woman's dress, and the plunge into the darkness and the sense of suffocation under a burden, and the strange twanging of the arteries in his temples.
"You know," began Mrs. Grant in an excited manner, "that I love Miss Midharst, and would do anything I could for her."