"On purpose?"
"Yes," hanging her pretty head; "I did it to annoy you! You were so--so nasty about Tom the other night--do you remember? So I wanted to make you _really mad_ this time--just for revenge, you know; but, honestly, I didn"t mean to be late for breakfast."
"Didn"t you?" drearily.
"No, I didn"t; you _must_ believe that." She goes nearer to him, and slips her hand through his arm. "Maurice!" whispers she. He makes her no answer. She moves even closer to him, and, leaning her little head against his shoulder, looks up at him. _"Do_ scold me!" says she again. The tender, childish voice touches him; it goes home to his heart--the heart that is so full of another. He looks down at her, and, stooping, lays his lips on hers. It can hardly be called a kiss; yet it satisfies _her_, to whom, as yet, kissing means so little. "Now I am forgiven," cries she triumphantly. "Is _that _your scolding?"
"I told you I couldn"t scold you," says he.
As he says this he sighs heavily.
"What a sigh!" She pushes him from her with both hands. "After all, I believe you hate me!"
"No, I don"t," says Rylton.
He smiles. After all, why not be friends with her? Had he explained that indifference was the word she should have used for hate, would she be any the wiser?
"No--really?" She has flung herself into a chair, and is looking at him with her hands clasped behind her head. "Well," thoughtfully, "I don"t hate you, either. That"s a blessing, isn"t it?"
"A great one."
He feels a little piqued, however, at the nonchalance of her manner.
Why should it occur to her that she might hate him? She has, unknowingly certainly, but unquestionably, blocked his way to the fulfilment of his desires, but he---- He changes colour; is he standing in _her_ way, then?
"What was the letter you were reading this morning when I came in?"
"A letter?"
He brings himself back to the present with an effort.
"Yes. It was so interesting," says she, making him a little malicious grimace, "that you could not spare a moment from the reading of it to acknowledge my presence."
"It was from my mother."
"No wonder it was so engrossing," says t.i.ta naughtily. "Well----"
"It isn"t well; it is ill," returns he, laughing. "She says she is coming to stay with us for a week or so on her way to Lady Sarah"s."
"Why is she coming?"
"For our sins, I suppose. I really don"t know any other reason." He casts an anxious glance at her. "I am afraid that you won"t care about it."
"Well, I shan"t," says t.i.ta frankly; "but if she wants to come, there is nothing more to be said. What _I_ am afraid of is that Marian won"t like it."
"Marian?"
"Yes, Marian. It struck me that she was not very fond of your mother. Was I right?"
"I could not possibly answer for Marian."
"No?"
"Certainly not."
"Yet I thought," with a swift glance, "that you were the one person in the world who could have told me all about her."
"You were wrong, then. I have known Marian, and--liked her; but I think no human being can answer for another"s likes and dislikes."
"Perhaps so." She looks down thoughtfully. "When is your mother coming?"
"To-morrow. I shall run up to town and meet her, and bring her on."
"You will be back to-morrow night?"
"Well, she seems to think so; but I expect she will be tired, and stay in town until next morning. In the meantime," smiling at her, "I leave the house and the guests and everything in your charge."
"How delightful!" cries t.i.ta, clapping her hands.
Rylton turns away.
CHAPTER IV.
HOW t.i.tA"S SOUL AT LAST IS STIRRED; AND HOW HER HAPPINESS IS THREATENED AND HERSELF SET AT NAUGHT; AND HOW MINNIE HESCOTT SPEAKS.
"Such a day to go out on the lake!" says Mrs. Bethune, with a contemptuous curve of her lip. "Really, that old woman must be as mad as she is disagreeable."
"Well, she could hardly be _more_ so," says Mrs. Chichester.
They are all in the oriel chamber, the windows of which look upon the lake, and now they can see Randall and Miss Gower rowing apparently in the utmost peace across it.
"She has a perfect pa.s.sion for boating," says Margaret.
"So I should say. I dare say it seems to her pretty and idyllic."
"Her pa.s.sions ought to be at a low ebb by this time," says Mrs.
Bethune with a sneer. She has suffered many things at the old maid"s hands.
"Well, let us pray Randal will bring her home in safety," says t.i.ta, laughing.
"My _dear_ Lady Rylton!"
"Heavens--what a prayer!" exclaims Mrs. Chichester.
"Let us say it backwards," says captain Marryatt, which is considered such a wonderful departure for him, such a stroke of wit on his part, that everyone laughs in the most encouraging fashion.