The cry was immediately returned by the other person; and Grace running

at once in the direction whence it came beheld an indistinct figure

hastening up to her as rapidly. They were almost in each other's arms

when she recognized in her vis-a-vis the outline and white veil of her

whom she had parted from an hour and a half before--Mrs. Charmond.

"I have lost my way, I have lost my way," cried that lady. "Oh--is it

indeed you? I am so glad to meet you or anybody. I have been wandering

up and down ever since we parted, and am nearly dead with terror and

misery and fatigue!"

"So am I," said Grace. "What shall we, shall we do?"

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"You won't go away from me?" asked her companion, anxiously.

"No, indeed. Are you very tired?"

"I can scarcely move, and I am scratched dreadfully about the ankles."

Grace reflected. "Perhaps, as it is dry under foot, the best thing for

us to do would be to sit down for half an hour, and then start again

when we have thoroughly rested. By walking straight we must come to a

track leading somewhere before the morning."

They found a clump of bushy hollies which afforded a shelter from the

wind, and sat down under it, some tufts of dead fern, crisp and dry,

that remained from the previous season forming a sort of nest for them.

But it was cold, nevertheless, on this March night, particularly for

Grace, who with the sanguine prematureness of youth in matters of

dress, had considered it spring-time, and hence was not so warmly clad

as Mrs. Charmond, who still wore her winter fur. But after sitting a

while the latter lady shivered no less than Grace as the warmth

imparted by her hasty walking began to go off, and they felt the cold

air drawing through the holly leaves which scratched their backs and

shoulders. Moreover, they could hear some drops of rain falling on the

trees, though none reached the nook in which they had ensconced

themselves.

"If we were to cling close together," said Mrs. Charmond, "we should

keep each other warm. But," she added, in an uneven voice, "I suppose

you won't come near me for the world!"

"Why not?"

"Because--well, you know."

"Yes. I will--I don't hate you at all."

They consequently crept up to one another, and being in the dark,

lonely and weary, did what neither had dreamed of doing beforehand,

clasped each other closely, Mrs. Charmond's furs consoling Grace's cold

face, and each one's body as she breathed alternately heaving against

that of her companion.




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