“It’s easier to preach than to practice. If Leo would but come! Hush—is that the front door? Why doesn’t Nessie tell me she has seen him? Yes, it certainly is; and I can hear Leo’s voice. Something is wrong! Marian, go at once, please, and send him to me as quickly as possible. Don’t let him wait a moment.”
Marian obeyed, hastening down the wide oak staircase. At the foot of it she encountered Leonard Ackroyd alone.
“If you please, sir, Mrs. Rutherford is anxious to see you at once,” Marian said. “She is very much afraid Mr. Rutherford must be worse, from your coming later.”
“No; he is just about the same. Is Miss Rutherford with her mother? I’ll go upstairs to them?”
“Miss Rutherford is in the dining-room, I believe, sir. I will send her to you.”
Leonard went upstairs lightly, yet three steps at a time, in long strides; and Marian walked across the hall to the dining-room. She felt some surprise that Nessie had not come out, but entered, with a light tap.
No Nessie appeared within. One glance revealed that fact; and then all thought of Nessie faded out of Marian’s mind. For somebody else stood there beside the massive dining-table—stood facing her calmly, with lady-like composure and indifference.
Marian knew again these velvet-black eyes, with the marked, dark brows above—would have known them anywhere in the world. And the likeness to the little child of Marian’s recollections was more striking now than on a former occasion. The cold air had freshened Joan, and brought quite a color to her cheeks. Not only that, but, as she met Marian’s intense gaze, her dark brows drew together into the old petulant, childish frown of displeasure.
“What do you want?” Joan asked.
Marian scarcely understood the question. Her mind was possessed by one thought, and for the moment she quite lost sight of the need for self-control. With fixed, hungry eyes, and clasped hands she drew slowly nearer. Joan retreated two or three steps, but Marian followed as if unconsciously.