June 17. Wednesday.—At last I have seen again my travelling companion, Sir Keith Denham!
He and his mother, Lady Denham, have been absent from The Park almost entirely since my arrival in Glynde. At one time they were coming home, then suddenly changed their plans and went abroad. Sir Keith has paid one or two flying visits, I believe, lately, but he and I have not met.
I stood still to break off a small spray of may.
Now they will be at The Park for some weeks, and the girls are quite excited,—Thyrza excepted, and Maggie especially. But I fancy the chief source of their excitement is the prospect of tennis there.
Thyrza and I had a walk alone together this afternoon, the twins going by invitation to the Hepburns. I always enjoy a ramble with Thyrza: for if no one else is present, she opens out, shakes off the shackles of reserve, and allows me some glimpses of her true self. It is an interesting "self" to me, crude and unformed indeed, but thoughtful, earnest, full of vague longings and high aims. If only Mrs. Romilly could see her thus!
Coming homeward after a long round, we passed through a pretty lane, arched over by trees. I stood still to break off a small spray of may from the hedge, and Thyrza knelt down on the bank for the better securing of a few violets. She loves flowers almost as much as I do.
Footsteps drew near, and I looked up. Somebody following in our rear had just overtaken us; and for a moment I was under a puzzled sense of familiarity with the face and form, though I could not recall who it might be. Apparently he had not yet become aware of our presence. He was walking swiftly, and gazing steadfastly downward.
"Miss Con, just smell these! How sweet they are!" cried Thyrza.
Then two large brown eyes were lifted in a curious slow fashion to meet mine, as if their owner had been very far-away in thought; and at once I knew. I should not have expected him to recognise me. The instant pause and the raised hat were a surprise.