CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VI.
“THE MASTER IS COME, AND CALLETH FOR THEE.”
Rhoda seized upon her cousin as she was passing out of the tent. She was resolved that Helen should not go back to the dancing-room. What was done could not be undone. But she would take her away before the crowd had begun to disperse.
“Come, Helen,” she said, “I have your cloak and hat; you needn’t go into the house again. Mr. Gill will get the chaise ready at once.”
“O Rhoda, the fun is only just beginning,” pleaded Helen. “And I have promised to dance——”
“Then you must break the promise. It won’t be the first that you have broken to-night,” added Rhoda, sharply.
She wrapped Helen in her cloak, and tied her bonnet strings with her own hands. As they stood there, in the strange mingling of lamplight and moonlight, she could see that the lovely face looked half-frightened and half-mutinous. In an instant Rhoda repented of her momentary harshness; somehow she had never loved Helen better than she did at that instant.
“I’m sorry to spoil your pleasure, darling,” she whispered; “but what will the father say if we are late?”
Helen’s brow cleared. Without a word she walked straight to the place where the chaise was standing, and climbed up into her seat. William Gill, assisted by one of the squire’s stable helpers, proceeded to harness the chestnut horse, and in a few moments more they had driven out of the park.