Her face was pale. She was holding a
letter in her hand. She looked from one to the other for a second or
two in silence.
"Are you sure," she said, in her low quiet voice, "that you wouldn't
rather go alone?"
"Not unless you would rather not come," said the squire.
"Thank you," she said. "May I--think about it?"
The squire was looking at her attentively. "What is the matter?" he
said suddenly.
She met his look steadily, though he felt it to be with an effort. Then
quietly she turned to Vera.
"I have just had a letter," she said, "from a friend who is in trouble.
Do you think you can spare me--for a little while?"
Vera stretched a hand to her. "My dear Juliet, I am so sorry. Of course
you shall go. What is it? What has happened?"
Juliet came to her, took and held the hand. "You are very kind," she
said. "But I don't want you to be troubled too. There is no need. You are
sure you will be all right without me?"
"You will come back to me?" Vera said.
"I will certainly come back," Juliet made steadfast answer, "even if I
can't stay. But now that you are able to sit up, you will need me less.
You will take care of her, Mr.
Pages:
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341