And Katy, listening eagerly, with her great blue eyes fixed upon his face, felt that to be like him, to experience that of which he talked, was worth more than all the world beside. Gradually; too, there stole over her the rest she always felt with him--the indescribable feeling which prompted her to care for nothing except to do just what he bade her do, knowing it was right. So when he said at last, "You must go back to New York; this is no place for you," she offered no remonstrance; but when he continued, "And you must go to-night; that is, you must take the early morning train, so as to reach the city before any one has had a chance to read the letter," she demurred at once. "She must see mother; she must see Helen; she must tell Helen who Genevra was. She wanted her to know it, but no one else. She must visit baby's grave; she could not go back without it."
"Not if it is right?" Morris asked, and Katy began to waver when he told her how much better it would be for her family not to know of this visit to him, as it would trouble them. She could tell Wilford, if she liked, but he must not be permitted to find the letter, as he would if he returned while she was gone. "I will go with you. It is not safe for you to go alone," he continued, feeling her rapid pulse and noticing the alternate flushing and paling of her cheek.
A fever was coming on, he feared, and it must not be there with him, for more reasons than one. She must return to New York, or, failing to do that, he must take her across the fields to the farmhouse before the coming dawn.
"Are you sick, Katy?" he asked, as she appeared to be growing stupid.
"Not sick, no; only so tired, so sleepy," and the heavy lids closed over the dull eyes, while Katy's head still lay upon the cushioned arm of the large chair.
Her position was not an easy one, and wheeling the lounge to the fire Morris brought a pillow from his sleeping room adjoining, and taking Katy in his arms laid her where she would at least be more comfortable than in the chair. Wrapping his shawl about her and turning down the gas so as to shield her eyes, he left her alone, while he went to Mrs. Hull, puzzling her brain to know who the lady was, brought there that stormy night, and talking so long and earnestly with the doctor. The driver boy was gone, and thinking it possible that their visitor might be wanting supper, the thoughtful woman had put the kettle on the stove, where it was sending forth volumes of steam just as Morris appeared. If he went to New York with Katy he must trust Mrs. Hull with his reasons for going, and as from past experience he believed she could be trusted, he frankly told her that Mrs. Wilford Cameron was in the library; that circumstances rendered it desirable for her to return to New York as soon as possible; that as she could not go alone he must of course go with her, and he expected Mrs. Hull not only to help him off, but also to keep the fact of Katy's having been there a secret from every one.