She followed him to the three or four stairs which led to the little second landing. And standing on the top, she looked down while her face quivered with excitement, Sir Barnaby ran downstairs as fast as his somewhat gouty feet allowed, and she waited until she heard him go out by the side-door.
Then, leaning forward, supporting herself on the banisters, she uttered, very faintly, almost in a wailing tone, the one word:—
“Gerard.”
And when, shaking like a leaf, he came out of the angle of the wall where he had been standing, and ran up the stairs, she just held out her arms to him, and trying to whisper something incoherent, unintelligible, she fell, scarcely conscious, into his arms.
CHAPTER XX
In the first moment of this unexpected meeting, Audrey, still with nerves strung up by the recent interview with Sir Barnaby and the unpleasant associations called up by his words, could find nothing but relief and comfort and joy in her husband’s presence.
He, on his side, kissed her tenderly, whispered to her to hold up her head and pull herself together, and tried to make her realise how inopportune this weakness was.
She struggled to regain the self-command she had lost, and looking eagerly, pitifully into his face, whispered:—
“You’re not angry with me? I thought—I was afraid—you would be.”
“I’m angry, very angry, at being kept out on the stairs,” replied Gerard, with a touch of the old boyish humour which went to her heart like a stab.