He returned Lee’s kiss politely, and took up a hair brush.
“You seem nervous,” he said. “Do calm yourself before dinner. It is always a relief to me that you do not talk as loud as the rest of the women.”
And when his wife rushed out and banged the door, he frowned, then shrugged his shoulders, and went down to the library.
CHAPTER XIV
“IN other words,” said Randolph, “loving an Englishman means hard work and plenty of it.”
They were on top of the fell and had been roaming about all the afternoon. Randolph had begun by amusing her and putting her into the best of tempers, then he had led her on to speak of her long and determined struggle to be many things foreign to her disposition and habit, evincing so deep and genuine an interest that Lee’s ego, so long the down-trodden subject of her imperious will, had leaped hilariously to its own and confessed itself steadily for two hours.
“I’m not disloyal for a moment, and you’re really my brother; and I could not speak to any one else living like this: the others I know as well would not understand. I don’t see why I complain. I’ve got almost everything I ever imagined myself wanting.”
“You’ve surrendered your individuality. It is that that gnaws, and almost devitalises you.”
“Perhaps. I don’t know. I could be very quickly spoiled and get it all back; but that would mean that I should not be happy in the same way, nor Cecil either.”
“Are you happy?”