He did not look at her or pay the smallest attention. Bunny was already in his arms,--Bunny, purple with rage, waving his arms in blind impotence.
"P'raps you'd open the door for me!" said Jake, in his slow gentle voice.
She went to the door. Somehow it was the only thing left to do. Jake followed her with his burden.
As he did so, Bunny ceased to struggle, realizing the mastery of the steady arms that bore him, and spoke; in a voice of tense hostility.
"You beastly groom!" he said.
Jake said nothing whatever. He carried him firmly, unfalteringly, from the room.
Maud closed the door softly behind him, and went back to her chair.
But she did not take up her work again. She sat gazing into the fire with wide, troubled eyes. She was beginning to realize that old associations, old friends, could be nothing but a disturbing element in her life, beginning to wish with yearning sadness that Charlie had not come back into it. She was tired--so tired, so sick at heart.
As for Bunny, he had grown out of hand and would never be the same to her again. She was sure of it, she was sure of it. Nothing ever could be the same again in this new world that she had entered. It was a world of harsh realities, wherein dwelt no softening magic. The fate she had dreaded was surely closing in upon her. Whichever way she turned, she found a narrowing circle.
A long time passed. She began to grow anxious. What was happening upstairs? Was it possible that Jake might after all lose his temper and visit his wrath upon Bunny's rebellious head? Would he by any chance make use of that frightful language which she had heard him employ only a few days before to a negligent stable-boy? Bunny's bitter epithet dwelt in her memory. Surely Jake would be something more than human if he did not resent it!