At last--at last, when she felt that her pride would allow her to stay
no longer, and she was on the point of going in, the sound of his step
cut short her misery. She waited, her heart beating quickly, to hear his
voice at her elbow. Presently she heard it, but he was speaking to
another; to a coarse rough man, half servant half loafer, who had joined
him, and was in the act of giving him a note. Julia, outwardly cool,
inwardly on tenterhooks, saw so much out of the corner of her eye, and
that the two, while they spoke, were looking at her. Then the man fell
back, and Sir George, purposely averting his gaze and walking like a man
heavy in thought, went by her; he passed through the little crowd about
the coach, and was on the point of disappearing through the entrance,
when she hurried after him and called his name.
He turned, between the pillars, and saw her. 'A word with you, if you
please,' she said. Her tone was icy, her manner freezing.
Sir George bowed. 'This way, if you please,' she continued imperiously;
and preceded him across the hall and through the opposite door and down
the steps to the gardens, that had once been Lady Hertford's delight.
Nor did she pause or look at him until they were halfway across the
lawn; then she turned, and with a perfect change of face and manner,
smiling divinely in the sunlight, 'Easy her motion seemed, serene her air,' she held out her hand.
'You have come--to beg my pardon, I hope?' she said.
The smile she bestowed on him was an April smile, the brighter for the
tears that lurked behind it; but Soane did not know that, nor, had he
known it, would it have availed him. He was utterly dazzled, conquered,
subjugated by her beauty. 'Willingly,' he said. 'But for what?' 'Oh, for--everything!' she answered with supreme assurance.
'I ask your divinity's pardon for everything,' he said obediently.
'It is granted,' she answered. 'And--I shall see you to-morrow, Sir
George?' 'To-morrow?' he said. 'Alas, no; I shall be away to-morrow.' He had eyes; and the startling fashion in which the light died out of
her face, and left it grey and colourless, was not lost on him. But her
voice remained steady, almost indifferent. 'Oh!' she said, 'you are
going?' And she raised her eyebrows.
'Yes,' he answered; 'I have to go to Estcombe.' She tried to force a laugh, but failed. 'And you do not return? We shall
not see you again?' she said.
'It lies with you,' he answered slowly. 'I am returning to-morrow
evening by the Bath road. Will you come and meet me, Julia--say, as far
as the Manton turning? It's on your favourite road. I know you stroll
there every evening. I shall be there a little after five. If you come
to-morrow, I shall know that, notwithstanding your hard words, you will
take in hand the reforming of a rake--and a ruined rake, Julia. If you
do not come--' He hesitated. She had to turn away her head that he might not see the
light that had returned to her eyes. 'Well, what then?' she said softly.