"He came in," she said, "and went back to his house again, I think. I was practising."
Suddenly she found herself wondering whether her manner was quite natural, and she glanced at Edith, who was "touching" the bell.
"No doubt he did not want to disturb your practice," said Mrs. Hancock, who always liked to remind herself of the comforts she showered on other people, "for I have given strict orders, dear, that you are not to be disturbed when you are practising. Perhaps he is in the garden. We will call to him over the wall. I want him to come in to dine, and you shall both play to us afterwards. I wonder if we could not get some nice duets with an easy part for you, dear, which you could play together. Look, it has begun to rain already; Denton was quite right. I am glad he advised us to turn, though it was Edith who saw the big black cloud first. There is an end to our going into the garden and to your croquet, I am afraid, but I will send a note round to Edward. I think that was a flash of lightning. Perhaps you would write the note for me, Edith, and give it to Lind. Oh yes, Lind, there will be a note. Yes, there is the thunder. Quite a loud clap. What a blessing we turned!"
Lind's wooden face looked inquiringly round when he was told that there was a note for Edward to be taken round, as if he expected to find him concealed under the piano.
"I thought Mr. Edward was here, ma'am," he said. "Perhaps he is in the garden. He said he would wait."
Elizabeth, gathering her music together, made a sudden awkward movement and spilled it.
"No, he went back home, Aunt Julia," she said. "He came in when I was practising, as I told you."
"I told him you were out, ma'am," repeated Lind, "and he said he would wait."
Elizabeth felt a wild exasperation. There was nothing to explain, and yet she had to go on explaining.
"But he went away again," she repeated.