"I wish I'd never come here. I wish I'd never seen Briarlay," cried Caroline, in an outburst of anger. "There is the car at the door. We'd better go."
"Won't you tell Letty good-bye?"
For the first time tears rushed to Caroline's eyes. "No, I'd rather not. Give her my love after I'm gone."
In the hall Blackburn was waiting for them, and Caroline's first thought, as she glanced at him, was that he had aged ten years since the evening before. A rush of pity for him, not for herself, choked her to silence while she put her hand into his, which felt as cold as ice when she touched it. In that moment she forgot the wrong that she had suffered, she forgot her wounded pride, her anguish and humiliation, and remembered only that he had been hurt far more deeply.
"I hope you slept," he said awkwardly, and she answered, "Very little. Is the car waiting?"
Then, as he turned to go down the steps, she brushed quickly past him, and entered the car after Mrs. Timberlake. She felt that her heart was breaking, and she could think of no words to utter. There were trivial things, she knew, that might be said, casual sounds that might relieve the strain of the silence; but she could not remember what they were, and where her thoughts had whirled so wildly all night long, there was now only a terrible vacancy, round which sinister fears moved but into which nothing entered. A strange oppressive dumbness, a paralysis of the will, seized her. If her life had depended on it, she felt that she should have been powerless to put two words together with an intelligible meaning.
Blackburn got into the car, and a moment later they started round the circular drive, and turned into the lane.
"Did John put in the bag?" inquired Mrs. Timberlake nervously.
"Yes, it is in front." As he replied, Blackburn turned slightly, and the sunshine falling aslant the boughs of the maples, illumined his face for an instant before the car sped on into the shadows. In that minute it seemed to Caroline that she could never forget the misery in his eyes, or the look of grimness and determination the night had graven about his mouth. Every line in his forehead, every thread of grey in his dark hair, would remain in her memory for ever. "He looked so much younger when I came here," she thought. "These last months have cost him his youth and his happiness."
"I am so glad you have a good day for your trip," said Mrs. Timberlake, and almost to her surprise Caroline heard her own voice replying distinctly, "Yes, it is a beautiful day."