"Don't talk about forgiveness, child—it implies a wider separation than I think has ever been between us. There can be no forgiveness in the case of people who never knowingly do one another wrong."
The carriage, with its high stepping, showy horses, began to slacken speed, and they descended the long flight of steps quietly, side by side.
"Is he good to you?" inquired Roden, quickly.
"Very," she replied; "very, indeed."
And then they reached the pavement, and the person referred to got out of the carriage and came to meet them.
It must be recorded, to Mr. Kingston's credit, that he behaved like a gentleman on this occasion. He was a little acid and supercilious, and not as composed as he assumed to be; but otherwise he conducted himself with propriety. "I took the carriage for half an hour," said he loudly. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting, my dear. Ah, Mr. Dalrymple, how do you do? I did not know you were in town. I hope you are quite well. Making a long stay?"
"A day or two only," said Roden, who stiffened in spite of himself, but spoke with studied courtesy. "I shall be starting back to Queensland to-night. I am glad to have had the opportunity of meeting Mrs. Kingston, and to see her looking well."
"Oh, yes, she is very well, I hope. Travelling did her good—it does everybody good. I felt quite set up by it myself. Dear me, was that a drop of rain? I think you had better be getting home, Rachel. There is a heavy storm coming directly. Good day, Mr. Dalrymple, good day. We can't set you down anywhere, I suppose?"
Mr. Dalrymple declined a seat in the carriage with thanks, and he held out his hand to Rachel.
"Good-bye," he said quietly.