Margaret started to her feet, a burning blush rising to her face.
"How did you come here?" she said. "Why did Mrs. Munro let you come upstairs?"
"I have been at Renton, Margaret," (she never noticed that he spoke her name familiarly). "Do you think I could stop away when I knew that you were wandering and by yourself?"
"My sister has been very ill, she is very ill," poor Margaret said, trembling.
"A bad place to be ill in," he said. "No comforts, let alone luxuries. Now what can I do for you? make a friend of me. I will do what I can, and I will do it willingly for _your_ sake."
Margaret could not speak. She had thought everything possible a few hours before, and now----Why did that sound of the sea fill her ears, that sound that made a grand chant as an accompaniment to other words and other tones? She pressed back that memory. Mr. Drayton was again speaking.
"I trust you will let me be of use," he was saying, wondering what caused that flush of consciousness that came into her face and died away again.
"You are very good," she said, in a low voice.
He made one or two steps nearer her, and, in that small room this brought him close. She shrank back involuntarily, and he saw the movement and it made him savage. But he controlled himself; he began to understand a little of her character; if he intended to win he must be cautious.
"I will go now," he said, taking her cold little hand in his, "but I will not go far, and you _must_ think of me as your friend; will you?"
He gave one lingering look at her and went downstairs, calling Mrs. Munro in a sharp, quick tone.
"Mr. Sandford requested me to see that the sick young lady and her sister had every comfort you can provide. Can you think of anything?"
"Oh dear, sir!" said poor Mrs. Munro, immensely relieved by this declaration, "that poor thing ought to have a nurse, and I've said so over and over again but Miss Margaret she seems afraid of spending. I was quite sure, sir, myself, it would be all right, such young ladies as these are, poor things; and Miss Margaret would not buy herself a sofa--a sofa to sleep on--and I have done my best, having my own work and the house on my hands, and responsibility; night work is not in my way, sir; but the scores of times I've been up and down those stairs, they're not much to look at but they're tiresome to go up and bad to come down when it comes to being often, sir."