"Oh, yes, why not?" returned Waveney, dreamily. "But it is not a little way to the Red House, is it?" And then she rose stiffly, and if Thorold had not held her she would have fallen. "Why am I like this?" she panted. "I have never been weary before."
"You have walked too far," was his sole answer, "and you are numb with cold." And then, half-supporting, half-carrying her in his man's strength, they reached the bridge.
Under the gaslight he saw she had revived a little, and then he made her take his arm. The town was lighted, and there were plenty of passers-by; but, happily, there was not far to go. More than once, even in that short distance, he was obliged to let her pause for a minute.
As he opened the little gate, she pressed his arm feebly.
"Oh, not here," she said. "I must go home. Please do not make me go in; please—please, Mr. Chaytor."
"My dear child, can you not trust me?" was all his answer. "Do not fear. I mean to take you home." And, somehow, his calm, authoritative voice seemed to control her at once.
CHAPTER XXXII.
"I WILL NEVER BE FAITHLESS AGAIN."
"Nothing begins and nothing ends
That is not paid with moan,
For we are born in other's pain
And perish in our own."
Thompson.