She did not look at him. The bouquet in her hand trembled.
He went on. "I oughtn't to find it hard to tell you anything. I've always felt that there was such sympathy between us. As if you understand me; and I would never fail to understand you."
"I have felt it, too."
Now she lifted her eyes—but to the windows of the drawing-room. From the nearest, a face was quickly withdrawn—her mother's. She stepped back, widening the distance between herself and Farvel.
"Susan!" It was Mrs. Milo, calling as if from a distance.
Instantly, Farvel also fell back. And scarcely knowing why she did it,
Sue put the bride's bouquet behind her.
Mrs. Milo came out. Her eyes had a peculiar glitter, but her voice was gentle enough. "Susan dear, why do you go flying away just when you're wanted? Why don't you come and help your poor motherkins as you promised? You don't want me to do everything?"
"No, mother."
"Then please go at once and help Mrs. Balcome with the packing. My things go into the two small wardrobe trunks. You'll have to use that big trunk that was your dear father's. Now hurry!"
"Yes, mother." Sue attempted a detour, the bouquet still out of her mother's sight.