Presently Mr Verden entered—a small, white-bearded man with a gentle voice.
“Oh, so you are back, Nellie!” he said, in his quiet, reserved manner.
“As you see, Pater,” she answered.
“H’m!” he murmured, and he moved about at his accounts.
Neither of her parents dared to question Helena. They moved about her on tiptoe, stealthily. Yet neither subserved her. Her father’s quiet “H’m!” her mother’s curt question, made her draw inwards like a snail which can never retreat far enough from condemning eyes. She made a careless pretence of eating. She was like a child which has done wrong, and will not be punished, but will be left with the humiliating smear of offence upon it.
There was a quick, light palpitating of the knocker. Mrs Verden went to the door.
“Has she come?”
And there were hasty steps along the passage. Louisa entered. She flung herself upon Helena and kissed her.
“How long have you been in?” she asked, in a voice trembling with affection.
“Ten minutes,” replied Helena.