“I should think so!” Hester laughed rather contemptuously again, and glanced at Katharine’s face.
The young girl moved, as though she were about to rise,—the little preliminary movement which most women make, as a clock gives warning five minutes before it strikes. It is often a tentative measure, and there is some expectation on the part of her who moves that her friend will make at least a show of detaining her. When she does not mean to do so, she herself generally moves a little, which precipitates matters. If men could understand this, they would more often be able to understand whether they are wanted any longer or not. But, instead, they rarely give warning, but seize their hats, in countries where it is manners to carry them, and rise with one movement, giving the lady no choice about detaining them or not.
On the present occasion, as soon as Katharine moved, Hester did likewise, sitting up straight, and pushing the small tea-table a little away from her, in order to make room for herself to rise. Katharine did not fail to notice the fact, and got up at once.
“I’m sorry we can’t make it up, Hester,” she said, regretfully. “I’m sorry if we’re both changed so much in such a short time. I shouldn’t have thought it possible.”
“The world’s full of surprises,” observed Hester, rising and slipping out from behind the tea-table.
“Oh—really, Hester!” exclaimed Katharine, impatiently. “You needn’t make it worse by saying such things as that, you know!”
“What things? Isn’t it true, my dear? I’m sure I’ve found the world a very surprising place to live in. Haven’t you?”
Katharine said nothing, but turned her face away a little, and made haste over her gloves, which she had forgotten to put on before rising, in her sudden haste to get away. Hester looked down at the tea-table, and absently took up a teaspoon and moved a little leaf that lay in the bottom of the empty cup. Katharine was only just beginning to use her right hand a little, and had difficulty in buttoning the glove on her left. She tried once or twice, and then turned to Hester.
“I wish you’d button it for me,” she said. “I can’t do anything with my right hand, it’s so weak.”
She held out her left, and Hester bent over it. But before she had fastened two buttons, she started, and looked at the door. Her quick ear had caught her husband’s footfall as he came downstairs again, doubtless in search of her. She paused, and held her breath, listening, though he was not singing now. The footsteps came nearer, the handle of the door turned, and Crowdie entered the room.