"And your wish would be law with Mr Lister," I thought.

"I shall expect you to write to me," she continued, "and set down any books you require. Do not be afraid to ask for them. I will either lend or buy them for you."

She was pouring out the tea as she spoke, and I took the cup from her hand, watching her thoughtfully the while, for she seemed to have grown strange and quiet during the last few hours; and it set me wondering whether she would ever be so kind to me again. In fact, I thought I must have done something to offend her.

That thought was chased away after tea, when we both rose, and she held out her hands to me with a very sweet smile, which told me the time had arrived when I must go.

"And now, Antony, you must come and see me again, often. Good-bye."

I could not speak, but stood clinging to her hands for a few minutes.

"Don't think me foolish," I said, at last; "but it has seemed so strange--you have been so kind--I don't know why--I have not deserved it."

"Antony," she said, laying one hand upon my shoulder, and speaking very softly and slowly, "neither do I know why, only that your simple little story seemed to go home to my heart. I thought then, as I think now, that when I lost both those who were near and dear to me, my sister and I might have been left penniless, to go out and struggle in the world as you have had to do. Once more, good-bye. Only strive on worthily, and you shall always find that I am your friend."

The next minute I was in the street, dull, depressed, and yet elated and joyful, while I ran over again the bright, sunshiny hours that had been so unexpectedly pa.s.sed, as I hastened northward to join Revitts, for it was one of his home nights.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

LINNY IS OUT LATE.

I noticed that there was growing trouble at the Halletts', and more than once, when I went up, I found Linny in tears, which, however, she hastily concealed.

This was the case on the night following my visit to Miss Carr, whose words, "that I need be under no uneasiness," were verified. The fact that I had been sent out by Mr Lister was sufficient for Mr Jabez Rowle; and when, during the next day, I encountered Mr Lister himself, he nodded to me in quite a friendly way, and said, "How are you?"

Mrs Hallett was asleep, and I went upstairs softly, tapped at Hallett's room door, and went in, to find him deeply immersed in his task, over which he was bending with knitted brows, and evidently in doubt.

"Ah, Antony," he said, "here we are, as busy as usual. How did you get on last night?"

"With Revitts?"

"Yes; was it not your lesson-night?"

"Yes," I said; "but I thought perhaps you meant at Miss Carr's!"

He dropped the file with which he had been at work and stared at me.

"Where did you say?" he exclaimed.

"Mr Lister sent me with a note to Miss Carr, and she kept me there all day."

He drew in his breath with a hiss, caught up the file and went on working, while I chattered on, little thinking of the pain I was causing the poor fellow, as I rapturously praised Miss Carr and her home, and told him by degrees how I had spent the day.

I was too intent on my narration to pay much heed to Hallett's face, though in fact I hardly saw it, he kept it so bent over his task, neither did I notice his silence; but at last, when it was ten o'clock, and I rose to go, he rose too, and I saw that he was rather paler than usual.

"Are you ill, Hallett?" I said anxiously. "How white you look."

"Ill? oh no, Antony. I have been sitting too much over my model. You and I must have another run or two into the country, and put roses in our cheeks."

He looked at me with a smile, but there was a weary, haggard look in his eyes that troubled me.

"Come, you must have a sc.r.a.p of supper before you go," he said; and in spite of my protest he led me into the sitting-room, where Mrs Hallett was seated by the shaded lamp reading, and the supper-cloth was laid half across the table.

"Yes," she said, looking up, as she let fall her book; "it's time you came, Stephen. It's very, very, very cruel of you to leave me alone so long."

"My dear mother," he said tenderly, "I did not know you were by yourself. Where is Linny?" he said anxiously.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Mrs Hallett querulously. "You are always either out or upstairs with your playthings."

"For Heaven's sake, mother, be just," Hallett exclaimed, with a burst of energy, such as I had not seen in him before. "Don't goad me at a time like this. Where, I say, where is Linny?"

"Goad you, Stephen! No, I don't goad you," whimpered the poor woman.

"I cannot help myself; say what you will to me. You neglect me, and Linny is always running out."

"Has Linny gone out now, mother?" exclaimed Hallett.

"Yes, yes, and I am left all alone--a poor helpless invalid."

"Where has Linny gone, mother?"

"I don't know, Stephen. She said there was something to fetch. How can I tell?" and she burst into tears.

"Mother, dear mother," cried Hallett, bending over her and kissing her, "pray, pray don't think me unkind; I am working for you, and Linny too."

"But if you would only be more ambitious, Stephen--if you would only try your poor father's profession."

"I cannot--you know I cannot, dear," he said appealingly.

"No, no, no," sobbed the poor woman; "always some low mechanic's pursuit. Oh dear, oh dear! If it would only please G.o.d to take me, and let me be at rest!"

"Mother, dear mother," whispered Hallett, "be reasonable. Pray, dear, be reasonable, and bear with what does seem like neglect; for I am indeed working for you, and striving to make you a happier and better home. Believe this of me, and bear with me, especially now, when I have two troubles to meet that almost drive me mad. Linny, dear: think of Linny."

"Shall I go now, Mr Hallett?" I said, for the scene was terrible to me, and I felt hot with indignation at one whom I looked upon as the most unreasonable of women.

"No, Antony; stay, I may want you," he said sternly. "Now, mother," he continued, "about Linny. She must not be allowed to go out at night like this."

"No, my son," said Mrs Hallett piteously; "and if you had taken my advice the poor child would not have been degraded to such menial tasks."

"Mother," said Hallett, with more sternness than I had yet heard him use in speaking to her, "it is not the mere going out shopping that is likely to degrade your child. The time has come when I must insist upon knowing the meaning of these frequent absences on Linny's part. Has she gone out to-night on some necessary errand?"

"I--I don't know, Stephen; she said she must go."

"Tell me, mother--I beg, I insist," he exclaimed, "what you are keeping from me."

"Nothing, nothing, Stephen," sobbed the poor woman. "You'll kill me with your un kindness before you've done."