"Can I be of any use to you, Mrs. Lapham? The Colonel
was here just before you came in, on his way to the train."
"Yes,--yes. I didn't know--I thought perhaps I could catch
him here. But it don't matter. I wish you would let
some one go with me to get a carriage," she begged feebly.
"I'll go with you myself," said the young fellow,
ignoring the strangeness in her manner. He offered her
his arm in the twilight of the staircase, and she was glad
to put her trembling hand through it, and keep it there
till he helped her into a hack which he found for her.
He gave the driver her direction, and stood looking
a little anxiously at her.
"I thank you; I am all right now," she said, and he bade
the man drive on.
When she reached home she went to bed, spent with the tumult
of her emotions and sick with shame and self-reproach.
She understood now, as clearly as if he had told
her in as many words, that if he had befriended those
worthless jades--the Millons characterised themselves so,
even to Mrs. Lapham's remorse--secretly and in defiance
of her, it was because he dreaded her blame, which was
so sharp and bitter, for what he could not help doing.
It consoled her that he had defied her, deceived her;
when he came back she should tell him that; and then it
flashed upon her that she did not know where he was gone,
or whether he would ever come again.
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