“She is going to take the steamer back to-night,” said the judge, helplessly.
“Oh no, Cicely; surely not to-night,” Eve began. In spite of the fatigues of the journey, Eve had been a changed creature since morning; there was in her eyes an expression of deep happiness, which was almost exaltation.
“There is no use in explaining anything to Eve, and I shall not try,” replied Cicely. She unfolded her arms and rose, still standing, a rigid little figure, close to the sofa. “I love my husband, and I shall go to him; what Eve says is of no consequence, because she knows nothing about such things; but I suppose you cared for grandma once, didn’t you, grandpa, when she was young? and if she had been shot, wouldn’t you have gone to her?”
“Cicely, you are cruel,” said Eve.
“When grandpa thinks so, it will be time enough for me to trouble myself. But grandpa doesn’t think so.”
“No, no,” said the old man; “never.” And for the moment he and his grandchild made common cause against the intruder.
Eve felt this, she stood looking at them in silence. Then she said, “And Jack?”
“I shall take him with me, of course. That reminds me that I must speak to Porley about his frocks; Porley is so stupid.” And Cicely turned towards the door.
Eve followed her. “Another long journey so soon will be bad for Jack.”
“There you go again! But I shall not leave him with you, no matter what you say; useless, your constant asking.” She opened the door. On the threshold she met Paul Tennant coming in.