In silence they walked along, side by side, the pressure of thought
and feeling on each mind being so strong as to take away the desire
to speak, until the old mansion house of Mr. Lofton appeared in
view. Here Mark stopped again; but the tenderly uttered "Come," and
the tearful glance of Jenny, effectually controlled the promptings
of an unbroken will. Together, in a few minutes afterwards, they
approached the house and entered.
"Where is Mr. Lofton?" asked Jenny of a servant who met them in the
great hall.
"He's been very ill," replied the servant.
"Ill!" Jenny became pale.
"Yes, very ill. But he is better now."
"Where is he?"
"In his own chamber."
For a moment Jenny hesitated whether to go up alone, or in company
with Mark. She would have preferred going alone; but fearing that,
if she parted even thus briefly from Mark, her strong influence over
him, by means of which she had brought him, almost as a struggling
prisoner, thus far, would be weakened, and he tempted to turn from
the house, she resolved to venture upon the experiment of entering
Mr. Lofton's sick chamber, in company with his grandson.
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