“My dear Lucy!” he said tenderly.
That was all, but he took her in his arms and kissed her, as if she were still the little child whom he used to pet and play with years before.
As soon as he released her she stood looking at him with her brows knit for a few moments, and then said,—
“Moray, should you mind very much if I were to go?”
“Go?” he said dreamily. “Go?”
“Yes; to see Glynne married.”
She saw a twitching of the nerves of his face as he realised her meaning, and was regretting her question, when he said softly,—
“No, my dear, no. Go if you wish it. Yes, go.”
He turned from her and resumed his work, making figures rapidly on a sheet of paper before him, and as he evidently wished to be alone, she stole softly out of the room.
Half-an-hour later Alleyne, who had left his work as soon as Lucy quitted him, and gone to a window which overlooked the road, saw his sister, very plainly dressed in white, go along the lane towards Brackley Church.