He had turned away wrathfully, and had reached the top of the winding stairway, when he heard her sobbing.
He came back swiftly, and gathered her in his arms.
"You're mine," he said, holding her close. "You know that, Betty."
She drew back from him. "Please," she begged, and so he let her go, and made his way blindly out of the room.
Miss Matthews sleeping feverishly, became aware above the sighing of the wind of an intermittent sound of woe.
She sat up and listened, put one foot out of bed, then the other, and throwing on her old gray wrapper, wavered toward the threshold of the door between the two rooms.
By the flickering light of the candle which burned on Bettina's desk she could see the little shaking white figure on the floor.
"Betty child," she said in a hoarse whisper, "dear child—what's the matter?"
"Oh," Bettina sat up and pushed her hair back from her tear-wet face, "oh, I've waked you up. I think I just forgot that there was any one in the whole wide world except myself——"
The expression on her tragic face told keen Miss Matthews that there was some deep trouble which needed help.