"Certainly I remember."
"You understood me?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Then you knew that I was—very anxious"—Dolly caught her breath—"about what might come? Oh, it is not treason for me to talk to you about it—now!" cried Dolly.
"It is not treason for you to tell me anything," said Mr. Shubrick, drawing her again closer, though Dolly kept her face bent down out of his sight. "Treason and you have nothing in common. What is it?"
"I told you, I knew there was no safety," she said, making a quick motion of her hand over her eyes. "I hoped things would be better over here, away from those people that led him the wrong way; and they were better; it was like old times; still I knew there was no safety. And now—he is taken care of," she said with a tremble of her lip which spoke of strong pain, strongly kept down. "He went to see some new fine machinery in somebody's mill. Somehow, by some carelessness, his coat got caught in the machinery; and before the works could be stopped his leg was—fearfully broken." Dolly spoke with difficulty and making great effort to master her agitation. The arms that held her felt how she was quivering all over.
"When, Dolly? When did this happen?"
"Soon after we came home. It is six weeks ago now."
"How is your father now?"
"Doing very well; getting cured slowly. But he will never walk again without—support. Oh, do you see how I am so sorry and glad together? Isn't it dreadful, that I should be glad?"