"I speak like a man, proud of his kin!" said I, suspiciously, alert to repel ridicule. Lover! What did she mean by that? Had I not asked pardon for my foolishness in Johnson Hall? And must she still taunt me?
If she read my suspicions I do not know, but I think she did, for the colour died out in her face and she set her lips together as she always did when meaning mischief.
"I pray you, dear friend," she said, wearily, "concern yourself with your kin as little as I do. Bid me good-bye, now. I am tired, Michael—tired to the soul of me."
She held out her slim hand. I took it, then I bent to touch it with my lips.
"You will not wed Dunmore?" I asked.
She did not reply.
"And you will come with me to Johnstown on the morrow, Silver Heels?"
There was no answer.
"Silver Heels?"
"If you are strong enough to take me from Dunmore, take me," she said, in a dull, tired voice.