“Will you want anything else?” asked the smiling old landlady.
“Nothing at all, thanks,” said Helena, with decision.
“Oh! then I think I will go to bed when I’ve washed the dishes. You will put the lamp out, dear?”
“I am well used to a lamp,” smiled Helena. “We use them always at home.”
She had had a day before Siegmund’s coming, in which to win Mrs Curtiss’ heart, and she had been successful. The old lady took the tray.
“Good-night, dear—good-night, sir. I will leave you. You will not be long, dear?”
“No, we shall not be long. Mr MacNair is very evidently tired out.”
“Yes—yes. It is very tiring, London.”
When the door was closed, Helena stood a moment undecided, looking at Siegmund. He was lying in his arm-chair in a dispirited way, and looking in the fire. As she gazed at him with troubled eyes, he happened to glance to her, with the same dark, curiously searching, disappointed eyes.
“Shall I read to you?” she asked bitterly.