“Only till Monday. I am going on business. You will wish me good luck?”
“With all my heart!”
He wrung her hand and ran on without a word. They could not trust themselves to speak again. The next day Annie left Beckham with the rest of the company.
On Monday night they met once more at the theater. Aubrey was looking paler and plainer than usual, and gave as a reason for his altered appearance that he had not been to bed for the last two nights.
“May I see you home to-night, Miss Langton?” asked he, as soon as he found a chance of speaking to Annie. “I will not say a word that could offend you. I will not touch upon the—the forbidden topic,” he whispered, earnestly.
Annie could not refuse; but it was hard work for her to hide her agitation—and her pleasure—when she once more found him waiting for her that night at the stage-door, and slipped her hand falteringly within his proffered arm. She had no need to be afraid; his manner was as cool and composed as if she had been his grandmother, and piqued her into similar calmness.
“I thought you would like to know how I got on in town,” said he at once, in the most matter-of-fact tone. “I went up about a London engagement—at the Regent’s Theater—and I’ve got it!”
“I’m so glad,” said Annie, coolly.
“Well, that is not all. I’ve got an offer of an engagement there for you too.”
“Not really?”