"Come, uncle," said Lucy. "We have to prepare the roast veal to celebrate the prodigal's return. Besides, Georgie and Reginald must have hundreds of things to tell each other; we shall only be treated to the second edition of a gentleman's travels in America. I suppose the first will be for private circulation only. I fear Georgie won't have much to say in return, for our dull life at the château will have little to interest a man." This was said trippingly upon the tongue, but it was said with intention, and the look which accompanied it caused poor Mrs. Haggard to drop her eyes, while a slight flush suffused her cheeks.
"Two can't play gooseberry, you know, uncle; it is a rôle that, like the daisy-picker's, cannot be divided."
Old Warrender rose with a smile, and Lucy dropped the pair a profound courtesy.
"Farewell, Strephon. Good-bye, Chloe. You would both make a pretty picture in sylvan costume, but in your nineteenth century clothes you look terribly prosaic."
"Lovers still though, I think, my dear; lovers still, please God," muttered the old man, as he gave his arm to Lucy.
The pair were left alone.
Were this history mere fable Reginald would at once have proceeded to possess himself of his pretty wife's unresisting hand; he would have pressed it to his lips with rapture. What he really did was to take his case from his pocket, provide himself with a large and uncommonly fullflavoured cigar, which he lighted with much care and deliberation.
"You must have found it beastly dull at that hole, Georgie," he remarked at length; "how on earth did you get through your time?"
Should she tell him? Could she tell him how she had got through that terrible time? Her honest nature urged her to it; but Georgie's love for Haggard, deep as it was, was not untinged with fear. Her gentler spirit was dominated by Lucy's strong will. Her intense respect for her promise, the promise snatched from her in the moment of her excitement and tribulation, quelled the impulse.
"Of course it was dull without you, Reginald. But you, at all events, have enjoyed yourself. How brown you've got," she said, gazing up at him with her old look of girlish rapture.