'I will go, then, if Richard will take me,' she replied, quietly; and Richard rose reluctantly.
'You must not bring her back for two hours,' was Dr. Heriot's parting injunction, as Mildred paused by Olive's bedside for a last lingering look. Olive still lay in the same heavy stupor, only broken from time to time by the imperfect muttering. The long hair had all been cut off, and only a dark lock or two escaped from under the wet cloths; the large hollow eyes looked fixed and brilliant, while the parched and blackened lips spoke of low, consuming fever. As Mildred turned away, she was startled by the look of anguish that crossed Richard's face; but he followed her without a word.
It was a lovely afternoon in July, the air was full of the warm fragrance of new-mown hay, the distant fells lay in purple shadow. As they walked through Hillsbottom, Mildred's eyes were almost dazzled by the soft waves of green upland shining in the sunshine. Clusters of pink briar roses hung on every hedge; down by the weir some children were wading among the shallow pools; farther on the beck widened, and flowed smoothly between its wooded banks. By and by they came to a rough footbridge, leading to a little lane, its hedgerows bordered with ferns, and gay with rose-campion and soft blue harebells, while trails of meadow-sweet scented the air; beyond, lay a beautiful meadow, belting Podgill, its green surface gemmed with the starry eyebright, and golden in parts with yellow trefoil and ragwort.
Mildred stooped to gather, half mechanically, the blue-eyed gentian that Richard was crushing under his foot; and then a specimen of the soft-tinted campanella attracted her, its cluster of bell-shaped blossoms towering over the other wildflowers.
'Shall we go down into Podgill, Aunt Milly, it is shadier than this lane?' and Mildred, who was revolving painful thoughts in her mind, followed him, still silent, through the low-hanging woods, with its winding beck and rough stepping-stones, until they came to a green slope, spanned by the viaduct.
'Let us sit down here, Richard; how quiet and cool it is!' and Mildred seated herself on the grass, while Richard threw himself down beside her.
'How silent we have been, Richard. I don't think either of us cared to talk; but Dr. Heriot was right—I feel refreshed already.'
'I am glad we came then, Aunt Milly.'
'I never knew any one so thoughtful. Richard, I want to speak to you; did you ever find out that Olive wrote poetry?'
Richard raised himself in surprise.