in the distance
in front of him, almost entering the house.
So she would be in, then--that was good.
He had never permitted his mind to dwell upon her for an instant, after
the Sunday walk. He made himself tell himself that she was a charming
child whom he felt great pity for, on account of her lonely life. That
he himself took a special interest in her he would not have admitted for
a second to his innermost thought. He had now definitely made up his
mind to propose to Cecilia Cricklander, and was only awaiting a suitable
occasion to put this intention into effect.
Numbers of moments had come--and passed--but he was always able to find
good and sufficient fault with them. And once or twice, when Fate itself
seemed to arrange things for him, he had a sudden sensation as of a
swimmer fighting with the tide, and he had battled to the shore again,
and was still free!
But it must come, of course, and before he left for London at the end of
the week. Private news had reached him that the Government must soon go
out, and he felt this thing must be an accomplished fact before then,
for the hand he meant to play.
But meanwhile it was only Tuesday, and he was nearing the battered and
nail-bestudded front door of La Sarthe Chase. William said the ladies
were at home, and he was shown into the Italian parlor forthwith.
It had not changed in the slightest degree in the seven years since he
had seen it first, nor had the two ancient spinsters themselves. They
were most graciously glad to receive him, and gave him tea out of the
thinnest china cups, and at last Miss Roberta said:
"Our great-niece Halcyone will be coming down in a moment, Mr.
Derringham. She has grown up into a very tall girl. You will hardly
recognize her, I expect."
And at that instant Halcyone opened the door and said a quiet word of
welcome. And if her heart beat rather faster than usual under her simple
serge bodice, nothing of any emotion showed in her tranquil face.
She took her tea and sat down in a chair rather in the shadows and
aloof.
Miss La Sarthe monopolized the conversation. She had no intention of
relinquishing the pleasure of this rare guest, so while Miss Roberta got
in a few sentences, Halcyone hardly spoke a word, and if she had really
been a coquette, calculating her actions, she could not have piqued John
Derringham more.
She looked so very sylph-like as she sat there, bending her graceful
head. Her eyes were all in shad
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