He indicated the divan, but Maud remained on her feet. The atmosphere of the place disturbed her. It seemed to be charged with subtleties that baffled her, making her vaguely uneasy.
She had come in answer to a message accompanying a great bunch of violets that had reached her that morning. She had not wanted to come; but for this once it seemed imperative that she should meet him face to face, and explain that which she felt no written words could ever express. She had sent him her rash summons, and he had replied by that bunch of violets and the request that she would come to him since he did not wish to risk interruption from "madame la mère." On this point she had been fully in accord with him, and she had sent back word that she would come in the afternoon, just to speak with him for a few minutes. She had hoped that he would gather from that that since the sending of her summons she had repented of her madness. It would not be an easy interview, she was sure; but she was not afraid of Charlie. She hated the thought of hurting him all the more because she did not fear him. He would let her go; oh yes, he would let her go. He had never sought to hold her against her will. But that very fact would make the parting the more bitter. His half-whimsical chivalry was somehow harder to face than any fury of indignation. He had hurt her at their last interview, hurt and disappointed her. But yet the man's fascination overpowered all thought of his shortcomings. Already she had almost forgotten them.
She stood before the fire, absently watching the servant as he busied himself over the coffee, till the aromatic scent of it suddenly brought her out of her reverie.
"Oh, thank you," she said. "I don't think I will have any. I have only come for five minutes' talk with Lord Saltash."
"His lordship particularly desired that you would take a cup, madam," the man replied. "It is a very special Egyptian brew." He turned round with a small silver cup on a salver which he decorously presented. "It is supposed to be particularly pleasing to a lady's palate, madam," he said.
She did not want the coffee, but it seemed ungracious to refuse it. She took the cup and set it on the mantelpiece.
"It should be drunk very hot, madam," said Billings persuasively. "Will you be so very kind, madam, as to taste it, and tell me if it is to your liking?"
She hesitated momentarily, but it was too small a matter to refuse. She took the cup by its slender handle and put it to her lips. Instantly it was as if a warm current of life went through her, a fine, golden thread of delight.
She looked at Billings and smiled. "It is--delicious," she said.
Billings looked gratified. "The second cup is generally considered even better than the first, madam," he said.