"Mrs. Daniels!" she breathed, holding out her hands with a longing
gesture.
"My dear mistress!" returned that good woman, taking those hands in
hers but in a respectful way that proved the constraint imposed upon
her by Mr. Blake's presence. "Do I see you again and safe?"
"You must have thought I cared little for the anxiety you would be
sure to feel," said that fair young mistress, gazing with earnestness
into the glad but tearful eyes of the housekeeper. "But indeed, I
have been in no position to communicate with you, nor could I do so
without risking that to protect which I so outraged my feelings as to
leave the house at all. I mean the life and welfare of its master,
Mrs. Daniels."
"Ha, what is that?" quoth Mr. Blake. "It was to save me, you consented
to follow them?"
"Yes; what else would have led me to such an action? They might have
killed me, I would not have cared, but when they began to utter
threats against you--"
"Mrs. Blake," exclaimed Mrs. Daniels, catching hold of her mistress's
uplifted hand, and pointing to a scar that slightly disfigured her
white arm a little above the wrist, "Mrs. Blake, what's that?"
A pink flush, the first I had seen on her usually pale countenance,
rose for an instant to her cheeks, and she seemed to hesitate.
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