that
trembling of her upper lip, as though she would, perhaps, cry and
perhaps would laugh but really was not sure, always told him when she
was afraid.

"See what I've brought you!" She put the violets down upon the table
beside him--"Now! Look!" She undid the paper and held up to his gaze a
deep, gleaming silver lustre bowl, a beautiful bowl because of its
instant friendliness and richness and completeness--"I found it!" she
said, "staring at me out of a shop window, demanding to be bought. I
thought you'd like it."

She put it on his table, found water and filled it, then arranged the
violets in it.

"Oh! my dear! it's beautiful!" he said, and then, with his eyes fixed
upon her face, watched her arrange the flowers. But he brought out at
last, "I'm afraid I can't promise to be alone for tea."

"Oh!" she stepped back from the flowers and looked at him. They faced
one another, the silver bowl between them. She stood, as she always did,
when she had something difficult to face, her long hands straight at her
side, her hands slowly closing and unclosing, her eyes fixed upon some
far distance.

"Roddy, please!" she said, "I do want to be alone with you this
afternoon. I have a special, very special reason. I want to talk."

"You see----" he said.

"No," she cried impatiently. "We _must_ have this afternoon to
ourselves. Tell Peters that you're too ill, too tired, anything. I'm
sure, after all that storm last night, it would be perfectly natural if
you were. Now, please, Roddy."

"I'm awfully sorry, Rachel dear. If I'd only known. If you'd only told
me last night."

"I didn't know myself last night. How could I? But now--it's most
awfully important, Roddy. I've--I've something to tell you."

His heart beat thickly, his eyes shone.

"Well, they won't stay long, I dare say."

"Who are they?"

"Oh! nobody--special. Friends----"

"Then if they _aren't special_ put them off. Roddy dear, I beg you----"

"No, Rachel, I can't----"

"Well--you might----" For a moment it seemed that she would be angry.
Then suddenly she smiled, shrugged her shoulders--at last, moved across
and touched the violets; then, with a little gesture, bent down and
kissed him.

"Well, my dear, of course you will have your way. But am I to be allowed
to come or are these mysterious friends of yours too private--too
secret?"

"Not a bit of it. I want you to come."

"I'll go and take my things off. I hope they'll come soon; I'm dying