Mrs. Galloway smoothed the back of the small, withered hand upon her knee with the palm of the other.
"Then, perhaps," she said slowly, "you will not refuse to accept my offer and stay here—with me?"
"Wi' yo'?" Joan exclaimed.
"I am an old woman, you see," Mrs. Galloway answered. "I have lived in Ashley-Wold all my life, and have, as it were, accumulated duties, and now as the years go by, I do not find it so easy to perform them as I used to. I need a companion who is young and strong, and quick to understand the wants of those who suffer. Will you stay here and help me?"
"Wi' yo'?" said Joan again. "Nay," she cried; "nay—that is not fur me. I am na fit."
On her way to her chamber some hours later Mrs. Galloway stopped at the room which had been Anice's, and looked in upon her guest. But Joan was not asleep, as she had hoped to find her. She stood at the fireside, looking into the blaze.
"Will you come here a minnit?" she said.
She looked haggard and wearied, but the eyes she raised to her hostess were resolute.
"Theer's summat as I ha' held back fro' sayin' to yo'," she said, "an' th' more I think on it, th' more I see as I mun tell yo' if I mean to begin fair an' clear. I ha' a trouble as I'm fain to hide; it's a trouble as I ha' fowt wi' an' ha' na helped mysen agen. It's na a shame," straightening herself; "it's a trouble such as ony woman might bear an' be honest. I coom away fro' Riggan to be out o' th' way on it—not to forget it, for I conna—but so as I should na be so near to—to th' hurt on it."
"I do not need another word," Mrs. Galloway answered.
