"You shall not bear it alone," Emily answered. "I will wait with you till the doctor comes."
Mrs. Delvin lifted her frail wasted hands to Emily's face, drew it a little nearer--and kissed her.
The parting words had been spoken. Emily and her companion were on their way to London.
For some little time, they traveled in silence--alone in the railway carriage. After submitting as long as she could to lay an embargo on the use of her tongue, Mrs. Ellmother started the conversation by means of a question: "Do you think Mr. Mirabel will get over it, miss?"
"It's useless to ask me," Emily said. "Even the great man from Edinburgh is not able to decide yet, whether he will recover or not."
"You have taken me into your confidence, Miss Emily, as you promised--and I have got something in my mind in consequence. May I mention it without giving offense?"
"I wish you had never taken up with Mr. Mirabel."
Emily was silent. Mrs. Ellmother, having a design of her own to accomplish, ventured to speak more plainly. "I often think of Mr. Alban Morris," she proceeded. "I always did like him, and I always shall."