Sir Adam held his wife’s chair for her, with somewhat old-fashioned courtesy, and pushed it gently as she sat down. Then he raised his head, and his eyes met Mrs. Bowring’s. For a few moments they looked at each other. Then his expression changed and softened, as it had when he had first met Clare, but Mrs. Bowring’s face grew hard and pale. He did not sit down, but to his wife’s surprise walked quietly all round the end of the table and up the other side to where Mrs. Bowring sat. She knew that he was coming, and she turned a little to meet his hand. The English old maids watched the proceedings with keen interest from the upper end.
Sir Adam held out his hand, and Mrs. Bowring took it.
“It is a great pleasure to me to meet you again,” he said slowly, as though speaking with an effort. “Brook says that you have been very good to him, and so I want to thank you at once. Yes—this is your daughter—Brook introduced me. Excuse me—I’ll get round to my place again. Shall we meet after luncheon?”
“If you like,” said Mrs. Bowring in a constrained tone. “By all means,” she added nervously.
“My dear,” said Sir Adam, speaking across the table to his wife, “let me introduce you to my old friend Mrs. Bowring, the mother of this young lady whom you have already met,” he added, glancing down at Clare’s flaxen head.
Again Lady Johnstone slightly bent her apoplectic neck, but her expression was not stony, as it had been when she had first looked at Clare. On the contrary, she smiled very pleasantly and naturally, and her frank blue eyes looked at Mrs. Bowring with a friendly interest.
Clare thought that she heard a faint sigh of relief escape her mother’s lips just then. Sir Adam’s heavy steps echoed upon the tile floor, as he marched all round the table again to his seat. The table itself was narrow, and it was easy to talk across it, without raising the voice. Sir Adam sat on one side of his wife, and Brook on the other, last on his side, as Clare was on hers.
There was very little conversation at first. Brook did not care to talk across to Clare, and Sir Adam seemed to have said all he meant to say for the present. Lady Johnstone, who seemed to be a cheerful, conversational soul, began to talk to Mrs. Bowring, evidently attracted by her at first sight.
“It’s a beautiful place when you get here,” she said. “Isn’t it? The view from my window is heavenly! But to get here! Dear me! I was carried up by two men, you know, and I thought they would have died. I hope they are enjoying their dinner, poor fellows! I’m sure they never carried such a load before!”
And she laughed, with a sort of frank, half self-commiserating amusement at her own proportions.