Her shoulders were bent; for a moment the little figure had forgotten its queenly bearing, and drooped wearily; the wide, dark eyes watched the fire very softly.
It certainly was not in her power to resist him, nor any strength in her that made his own at that moment grow soft as he looked at her.
He touched one little hand that rested on her knee.
"Poor little thing!" he said; "you are only a child." She did not draw her hand away from his, and looked up at him.
"You are very tired ?" "Yes." She looked into his eyes as a little child might whom a long day's play had saddened.
He lifted her gently up, and sat her on his knee.
"Poor little thing!" he said.
She turned her face to his shoulder, and buried it against his neck; he wound his strong arm about her, and held her close to him.

When she had sat for a long while, he drew with his hand the face down, and held it against his arm.

He kissed it, and then put it back in its old resting-place.
"Don't you want to talk to me ?" "No." "Have you forgotten the night in the avenue ?" He could feel that she shook her head.
"Do you want to be quiet now ?" "Yes." They sat quite still, excepting that only sometimes he raised her fingers softly to his mouth.
Doss, who had been asleep in the corner, waking suddenly, planted himself before them, his wiry legs moving nervously, his yellow eyes filled with anxiety.

He was not at all sure that she was not being retained in her present position against her will, and was not a little relieved when she sat up and held out her hand for the shawl.
"I must go," she said.
The stranger wrapped the shawl very carefully about her.
"Keep it close around your face, Lyndall; it is very damp outside.

Shall I walk with you to the house ?" "No.