“Yes—you are Geraldine?” said Alwyn.
“Why didn’t you tell me so in the wood? I am very glad you are come home. I’ll be friends with you anyhow.”
Her bold, defiant voice sounded to Alwyn like an echo of his own old self, and it struck him how ready both his father’s children were to side against him.
Geraldine came close to him and offered to kiss him, and he kissed her tenderly but very quietly, and looked at her as if learning her face.
“I am very glad I have seen my sister,” he said. “But now I must go to my father. I must not talk to you now.”
“I told Miss Hardman that I would come and speak to you,” said Geraldine. “I shall write to you if you go away again. I won’t be prevented.” Alwyn said nothing, and she looked at length a little awed by his silence and gravity. He moved away towards the door, then came back and kissed her again, this time in a warm hasty fashion that brought the tears to her eyes, then went across the hall and knocked at the door of his father’s library.