"Have you finished? Am I disturbing you?"
Wareham sprang up.
"I believed I was never to see you."
His voice said more than he intended, more than he had known he felt,
for he had imagined himself cool as a frosty morning. But in the moment
of her entering his glance had devoured her, he saw her grave, not a
smile curving her lips, and her dark eyes weighted with what looked like
sorrow. He told himself that to see her otherwise would have killed his
love; the pictures of her which he had summoned up, amusing herself on
board Lord Milborough's yacht, he had made perhaps purposely repugnant,
calling on them as part of his defences. After all, he perceived that
he had wronged her, his accusation of want of sympathy was cruelly
unjust, and he flung shame on himself for having encouraged it. Under
whatever circumstances they were to meet, down with pretences! She sat
throned in his heart.
She hesitated for a moment before she spoke. "Why did you leave us, Mr
Wareham?"
"It seemed best. Besides, my leaving could have had no ill effect on
poor Hugh. You did all that was possible for him."
Would she sit down? He did not venture to ask her, but she drew a chair
into the corner, and for the first time smiled, perhaps at a flickering
idea that she was shocking the traditions of Mrs Grundy. She said,
alluding to this--
"They are all up-stairs, and chattering so hard that there would be no
getting in a word. I wanted to speak to you in quiet. You have been
with him?"
"As long as they would let me."
"Well?"
"He is very ill."
"Oh, poor fellow, poor fellow, I know it! I believe I could soothe him,
but those nurses are mechanically scrupulous in carrying out whatever
idea has been worked into their heads, and they will not let me go near
him. If at any time you think it would be well, promise to send for
me."
Her eyes pleaded. Wareham promised, remembering that a condition
guarded the pledge.
"Tell me, if you can, how soon he complained of illness," he said.
"After you left? He never actually complained, but he looked ill, and
allowed that he had headache the next day--the day we left Vadheim. At
Sande he seemed better. Then came--let me think--yes, it was from Sande
that we found the heat rather tremendous. After that he flagged, I am
sure. What should we have done?"
He read real trouble in her eyes.
"I can think of nothing. I know Hugh. He would not give up."
"Give up? No. He knows how to hold on."
There might have been a double meaning in his words, but at such a time
Wareham could not so much as glance at it. He said only--
"The time must have been difficult for you all."
"Hardly. There was so little choice. The only question lay between
remaining at Molde or coming on here, and then we had Dr Scott on whose
shoulders to slip our responsibility. I bless him for his decision.
What should we have done without nurses!"
She stopped and looked out of the window, her mouth half open, and the
breath coming lightly and quickly between her parted lips.
"From what I have seen he is being admirably cared for," said Wareham,
"and I should think the risk of taking him to England would have been
too great."
"To England?" She turned and looked at him. "Oh, in Lord Milborough's
yacht! Did Colonel Martyn tell you that was discussed?"
The name of Lord Milborough pricked him. He replied that his
information came from Dr Scott, and went on to say that he had lately
seen Lord Milborough's sister.
"Lady Fanny? Is she like her brother?"
"To know that, you must describe him. I have not the honour of his
acquaintance."
She smiled.
"I never describe friends, only generalise. I am in love with his
yacht. We were on board this afternoon. To-morrow you must come for a
little sail."
"Thanks. I mean to stick pretty close to this house."
Anne seemed not to have heard this rejection of her offer. She leaned
back, her eyes fixed on her hands, clasped lightly on her lap.
Wareham's look followed hers, to see whether her rings told a story, and
read none. Presently she said reflectively--
"It would be difficult to get sufficiently fast hold of Lord Milborough
to describe him. Where did you meet his sister?"
For some reason the question was not welcome. He answered, however,
without hesitation--
"At Mrs Ravenhill's."
"Ah, the Ravenhills! We live in a kaleidoscope ball. A shake, and the
colours change, and quickly! After seeing so much, it is heartless not
to have thought more of them. But they and you were fast friends."
She gave the effect of a question to this assertion. He parried it
with--
"You liked them too, I fancy."