David drew back and looked hard into her face that quivered in spite
of the smile she had summoned to meet his eyes. It was a long look,
for a child; then suddenly, he put both arms around her neck in a
breathless squeeze. "One--two--three--four--" he began.
William King, coming in for his evening smoke, saw that quick embrace;
his face moved with pain, and he stepped back into the hall with some
word of excuse about his coat. When he returned, she was standing up,
hurrying to get away. "Saturday," she repeated to Dr. Lavendar;
"Saturday, surely?"
"Why," the old man said smiling, "you make me feel like a thief. Yes;
you shall have him Saturday night. Willy, my boy, do you think Mrs.
Richie ought to go up the hill alone?"
"Oh, it will be bright moonlight in a few minutes," she protested
nervously, not looking at the doctor.
"I will walk home with Mrs. Richie," William said.
"No! oh, no; please don't!" The dismay in her voice was unmistakable.
Dr. Lavendar thrust out a perplexed lower lip. "If she'd rather just
go by herself, Willy, there are no highwaymen in Old Chester, and--"
But William King interrupted him gently. "I wish to speak to Mrs.
Richie." And Dr. Lavendar held his tongue.
"I am sorry to bother you," William said, as he held the gate open for
her; "but I felt I must speak to you."
Helena made no reply. All the way down the street, almost to the foot
of the hill, Old Chester's evening stillness was unbroken, except for
the rustle of fallen leaves under their feet. Suddenly the great disk
of the hunter's moon lifted slowly up behind the hills, and the night
splintered like a dark crystal; sheets of light spread sharply in the
open road, gulfs of shadow deepened under trees and beside walls. It
was as abrupt as sound. William King broke into hurried words as
though he had been challenged: "I knew you didn't want me to walk home
with you, but indeed you ought not to go up the hill alone. Please
take my arm; the flagging is so uneven here."
"No, thank you."
"Mrs. Richie, please don't feel that I am not your friend, just
because--Indeed, I think I am more your friend than I ever was. You
will believe that, won't you?"
"Oh, I suppose so; that is the way saints always talk to sinners."