“Yes, yes; I won’t be selfish again. Kiss me first,” said the invalid, in a more contented tone.
And Annie put her lips lightly to his forehead and left the room. It was very tiresome that she should have to delay her departure from the Grange for this whim of her capricious husband. She hoped that she might be able to leave in a day or two, especially as George was expected at the Grange; and, if she were to remain until his arrival, she knew well that she would find it difficult to get away. For she could not fail to see that, while she had lost the first freshness of her beauty, she had acquired, by her early encounters with the world and by contact with the wits of the green-room, other charms of even greater power, which a man of Sir George’s type would be likely to rate highly—especially in the country, where women who can talk are rare. She had no longer the least fear of him, and she only dreaded, in worldly-wise feminine vanity, not his attraction for her, but hers for him.
For the longing to be again at work in her profession was strong upon her, and an unacknowledged wish to see that member of it whom she liked best was stronger still. She knew, too, that these few days of delay in returning to London might make the difference between her obtaining or losing all chance of the engagement Aubrey Cooke had spoken of to her. Her excitement and impatience grew so high as she thought the matter over during her solitary breakfast, that she felt obliged to throw a shawl round her and rush into the open air to calm the fever rising within her before returning to her peevish lord and master up-stairs. How could she induce him to let her go at once, without exciting the spirit of contradiction in him which would make him tease her to stay because he saw she wished to go? She had turned reluctantly toward the house again, and was going indoors to Harry, who would probably be dressed and up for the first time since his illness now, when a wild but delighted shout from the gate frightened her. She saw a tall figure racing over the lawn toward her, and in another minute she was in William’s frantic embrace.
He lifted her off her feet, he made little rushes at her, he danced round her with savage cries, he showed ecstasy in every uncivilized and unheard-of way, asking her when she had come and why she had not written to tell him.
“I didn’t know where you were, William, my dear boy,” said Annie. “Did you know I was here?”
“Rather! What do you think I’ve come for except to see you? And I saw George in town yesterday, and I’ve told him, and he is coming, and Wilfred and everybody; and we’ll have the whole place lit up, and—Hooray! I must give you another hug!”
He was suiting the action to the word when the window of Harry’s room, which was on that side of the house, was thrown sharply up by the invalid, who was sitting by it, and his angry and no longer weak voice called out:
“Be off! Leave her alone, you impudent young scamp! Annie, come here; I want you. Why have you been so long gone? You don’t care what happens to me!”
“I’m coming,” said Annie, resignedly.