[THE LAST OF THE HADDONS.]
CHAPTER XXXIII.—'A WOMAN'S ERRAND.'
After making two or three attempts to obtain a private interview with me, and finding that it was not to be, Philip did not stay very long, explaining that he had only come down for the papers, and had business in town for the remainder of the day. Somewhat more gravely and quietly than usual, he shook hands with Mrs Tipper and Lilian; and then, in a matter-of-course way, said: 'Come, Mary.'
I knew that I must not refuse. Murmuring an excuse for a moment, I ran up to my room and fell upon my knees, asking for the strength I so sorely needed for the coming trial; then joined him again, and we went out together. As we walked down the lane, I felt that he too was nerving himself; and presently he asked, in a low grave voice: 'What made you talk in the way you did just now, Mary?'
I was in a difficult position. If I attempted to justify myself, he would take alarm at once, and bind me and himself still closer to our bond. I could only treat it as a jest.
'We all talk nonsense sometimes, Philip.'
'I suppose so; but that is a kind of nonsense you have not taught me to expect from you.'
'I am afraid you expect too much from me.'
'I certainly expect a great deal.'
Fortunately, I had something to say which would keep off love-speeches; and without any attempt to smooth the way, I said it.