"But Liz, Liz! Why, old friend—"
"Go away, I tell you! I don't want you here and I won't have it! Tell all the others to stay away—every one, man and woman. I'm done, I tell you. I'm through. Go, go, I tell you! Go!"
There was a mumbled, bewildered protest which grew fainter and fainter till it ended with the clicking of the gate latch, and Lizzie, white and trembling, returned. She resumed her seat, and with unsteady hands took up her knife and fork, but made no comment on the interruption.
Supper over, they rose and put the things away. After this was done they sat talking in the parlor till nine o'clock. Then Tilly said, "Now you must go to bed, and so must I."
Lizzie got another lamp, and when she had lighted it she suddenly bethought herself of something. "You have no nightgown," she said. "Is it at the cottage?"
Tilly nodded. "Yes; I will run over for it, if you will give me a match to light the gas."
Lizzie averted her eyes, stood silent for a moment, and then said:
"No, no, you mustn't go at this time of night. Some one might see you leaving here or returning. No, no, that would never do, my child. I have a lot of clean nightgowns, but I have—" Lizzie broke off, her face flushing, her eyes falling.
"Then why don't you lend me—" Tilly had read the thought of her embarrassed hostess, delicate as it was, and yet did not know how to relieve the situation of its tension.
"Oh, I remember now!" Lizzie suddenly ejaculated in relief. "I have some that have just been bought and given to me which I've never worn. They are rather too small for me. In fact, they are about your size. Come to my room and I'll get one."