"If you'll tell me what I can do," said Septimus, "I'll do it."

A creaky rumble was heard in the distance and presently they made out a
cart coming slowly down the hill. Septimus had another brilliant idea.

"Let me put you into that and take you back to Nunsmere."

She sprang to her feet and clutched his arm.

"Never. Never, do you hear? I couldn't bear it. Mother, Zora--I couldn't
see them again. Last night they nearly drove me into hysterics. What do you
suppose I came out for at this hour, if it wasn't to avoid meeting them?
Let us go on. If I die on the road, so much the better."

"Perhaps," said Septimus, "I could carry you."

She softened, linked her arm in his, and almost laughed, as they started up
the hill.

"What a good fellow you are, and I've been behaving like a beast. Anyone
but you would have worried me with questions--and small wonder. But you
haven't even asked me--"

"Hush," said Septimus. "I know. I saw the paragraph in the newspaper. Don't
let's talk of it. Let us talk of something else. Do you like honey? The
Great Bear put me in mind. Wiggleswick wants to keep bees. I tell him, if
he does, I'll keep a bear. He could eat the honey, you see. And then I
could teach him to dance by playing the bassoon to him. Perhaps he would
like the bassoon," he continued, after a pause, in his wistful way. "Nobody
else does."