did it' had no meaning for me, I could not but fancy I was the subject of the conversation.
At last they came. Mrs. Drummond was deadly pale, but very animated. I don't think I ever heard her laugh so much or so unmusically. She greeted me with a smile, hardly addressing me; but when it was time to go she suddenly turned to me as I stood silent by her side, put her hand on my arm, and said, with a break in her voice,--
'Take me on board.'
She did not remove her hand for the few minutes before the steamer started. There was a crowd round us, and she needed some protection against a chance push, for her husband was fully occupied with the luggage. She never spoke or even looked at me; but I fancied she drew nearer, and that the hand on my arm trembled; possibly my own heart throbbed too violently for me to tell.
Then the warning bell rang. All her friends crowded round to bid her 'good-bye.' Mr. Drummond came up.
'Now, Verner,' he said, 'you must be off. Just write a line now and then to say how Powell is getting on.'
I don't think any looker-on would have noticed our farewell. I took her hand and muttered some unintelligible words. She made no answer--never lifted her eyes. All she said was,--
'Robert, I have given Folly to Mr. Verner.'
Then she walked away.
