thing."

They came together, in that terrible room, like two children out of the
dark. He suddenly caught her hand and she let him hold it. Then, very
gently, she withdrew it.

"I think that you can make all the difference," she answered slowly.
"Mother often speaks of you. I told you before that she wants so much to
see you, and if you would do that, if you would go up, for just a little
time, and sit with her, I believe you would soothe her as no one else
can. I don't know why I feel that, but I know that she feels it too. You
_are_ restful," she said suddenly, with a smile, flung up at him.

And again, as on the earlier occasion, he shrank from the thing that she
asked him. He had felt, from the very moment this afternoon that he had
entered the house, that that thing would be asked of him. Mrs. Craven
wanted him. He could feel the compulsion of her wish drawing him through
walls and floors and all the obstructions of the world.

"Of course I'll go," he said.

"Ah! that will help. It would be so good of you. Poor mother, it's
lonely for her up there all day, and I know that she thinks about
things, about father, and it's not good for her. You might perhaps say
a word too about Rupert. I cannot imagine what it is that she is feeling
about him." She paused, and then with a sigh, rising from their chair,
longingly brought out, "Oh! but for all of us! to get away--out of this
house, out of this place, that's the thing we want!"

She stood there in her black dress, so simply, so appealingly before
him, that it was all that he could do not to catch her in his arms and
bold her. He did indeed rise and stand beside her, and there in silence,
with the dim room about them, the oppressive silence so ominous
and sinister, they came together with a closeness that no earlier
intercourse had given them.

Olva seemed, for a short space, to be relieved from his burdens. For
them both, so young, so helpless against powers that were ruthless in
the accomplishment of wider destinies, they were allowed to find in
these silent minutes a brief reprieve.

Then, with the sudden whirring and shrill clatter of an ancient clock,
action began again, but before the striking hour had entirely died away,
he said to her, "Whatever happens, we are, at any rate, friends. We can
snatch a moment together even out of the worst catastrophe."

"You're afraid . . . ?" Her breath caught, as she flung a look about the
room.

"One never knows."