He could not say any more about it. It seemed to him that her eyes were anxious as though she were not quite sure how much he had heard.
“You believe me, don’t you?” She spoke in a frightened whisper.
“Of course I do. We’ve just time for our train. You are coming, aren’t you?”
She said: “Of course I am,” and ran upstairs singing to put her hat on.
The roses lay neglected on the sideboard where she had placed them. In five minutes she returned, thoroughly dressed for her new role of country girl with brogued shoes and a short skirt of Harris tweed.
“I’m ready,” she said gaily.
It was a wonderful day. They walked together under dull skies that made the berries in the hedgerows and the waning fires of autumn glow more brightly, and even ministered to the girl’s own beauty. The cool air and the walking made her cheeks glow with a colour that was natural and therefore unusual. Edwin was so entranced with her companionship that he forgot his anxiousness of the morning; so lost in the amazing beauty of her hazel eyes and her cheek’s soft contour that he did not notice that she was limping. Halfway to the summit of the hills she stopped, gave a little sigh, and sat down on the bank of a hedge.
“I’m awfully sorry, Eddie. My foot hurts. I think this shoe’s too tight.”
“They look simply splendid.”
“I know. I only bought them yesterday—just specially for to-day.”