"I could love you," said Gabrielle. "You have Arthur's eyes…."
Mrs. Payne left her.
XX
Much to the disgust of Hollis, who was in the habit of making the most of his Sundays, Gabrielle left Overton by the early morning train while Arthur slept undisturbed after his night of wonder, and Mrs. Payne rose anxiously to face the certain embarrassments and the possible bitterness of her victory. She had not slept at all, for though she never for one moment dreamed of going back on the decision which her conscience, amongst other things, had dictated, she was still in doubt as to whether she had won her son or lost him for ever. She almost regretted the burst of generosity in which she had refused to read Gabrielle's letter of renunciation. For all she knew the wording might be provocative and calculated to wreck her plans at the last moment. The letter lay sealed upon her dressing-table. It speaks well for her sense of honour in a bargain that this pathetic document remained unopened. Meanwhile she only prayed that the hours might pass and her fate be revealed. She could only rack her brains imagining some means by which the severity of the blow might be tempered for Arthur.
Next morning he came down ten minutes late for breakfast. He missed
Gabrielle at once.
"Where's Mrs. Considine?" he said. "I called at her door as I came down, but I don't think she's there."
"No," said Mrs. Payne. "She had to go back to Lapton by the first train. An urgent call of some kind."
"A telegram? The old man isn't ill, is he?"
"She left a letter for you," said Mrs. Payne, handing him Gabrielle's envelope.
"What a rotten shame," he said as he took it. "It's a splendid morning for a ride. I hope it's not serious."