In proud despair she looks
pleadingly at Lionel for sympathy, and Everly, his heart beating,
longs to do something for her.
"Can I help you in any way, dear Miss Vernon? Shall I ring the great
alarm bell, rouse the village and the Hall. Only let me be of use to
you," he says hurriedly.
"I thank you, Sir Tilton, make room for me at the window. Ah, heavens!
It is too true. Go down at once, Lion. Though I don't know for what,
still go. But don't go near that man, darling; tell Mr. Claxton and
the old butler, as well as my uncle's man; see what they say," she
cried, breathlessly.
"I cannot bear to leave you, love; will you be brave?"
"I will! I am!" but her voice trembled.
"Sit down and rest; you tremble," and leading her to the window, he
brings her to a cushioned seat, pressing the hand on his arm to his
side, whispering,
"Be brave, darling; remember your poor uncle was not happy, so he is
spared much. Come down when you feel calm enough to face Mrs. Grundy."
He is gone and bounds down one hundred and seventy-five steps between
his heaven and a lower sphere.
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