“She is downstairs, and will not be denied.” Leo scarcely breathed the utterance audibly, fearing to rouse George, whose calm face showed no sign of consciousness. “Would it not be best for one minute?”
Again Joan shook her head.
Leo hardly knew whether to press the matter further.
“Joan, it is something about your interview—something that she wishes to unsay or undo.”
No response came to this. Joan simply turned her head aside, with an air of resolute refusal. A slight silence followed, broken by George Rutherford. He had not seemed to hear what passed, but now his eyes opened, looking towards Joan, and the faint voice uttered the words—
“Marian Brooke?”
Leo only said, “Yes,” gently, and Joan gave him a most reproachful glance.
George spoke distinctly, “I should like to see Marian Brooke.”
“Father dear, don’t trouble yourself about her; please don’t!” entreated Joan. “Everything will come right by-and-by—indeed it will.”
“Yes, my darling,” and George smiled at her. But again he said, “I should like to see Marian Brooke.”