“Go,” said the Captain, shaking the boy. He was ashamed of himself and angry. “Beware how you disobey your sister again.”
Coppinger’s face was red as fire. He turned to Judith—
“Your feet are bare. Let me carry you up-stairs—carry you once more.”
She shook her head. “As I came down so I can return.”
“Will you forgive me?” he said, in a low tone.
“Heaven forgive you,” she answered, and burst into tears. “You will break my heart, I foresee it.”
CHAPTER XIX.
A GOLDFISH.
Next day—just in the same way as the day before—when Judith was risen and dressed, the door was thrown open, and again Coppinger was revealed, standing outside, looking at her with a strange expression, and saying no word.
But Judith started up from her chair and went to him in the passage, put forth her delicate white hand, laid it on his cuff, and said: “Mr. Coppinger, may I speak to you?”