So the three weeks passed, and Lawrence came to say good-by. He would gladly have escaped the ordeal, but that he saw was impossible, so he drove over with his mother the last afternoon, at her suggestion. He need not have minded, for there was no change in anyone. Mrs Adair was far too proud to show by word or sign any symptom of her feelings, and both she and Eileen went through the afternoon with brave, smiling faces and perfectly natural manners.
Only when he was alone with Eileen for a few moments was there any constraint. Then, in spite of herself, she was white to the lips, and her hands played nervously.
Lawrence watched her covertly, and for the first time in his life felt a cur.
“Good-by,” she said, to break the almost unbearable silence, looking up with an effort at brightness.
He took her outstretched hand and looked hard into her eyes.
“Good-by, Eileen,” he answered, and hesitated a moment as if he would fain say something else. Then he suddenly dropped her hand, and went out to see about the horses.
Paddy was in the stables petting them with sugar and apples, and stroking lovingly their smooth, glossy coats, for she had a passionate love for all animals. When Lawrence came in she glanced over her shoulder, and, seeing who it was, turned her back to him, and continued playing with the horses.
Lawrence watched her a moment, and the thought crossed his mind that in fire and spirit she was a good match for them.
The man went to pull out the phaeton, and Lawrence loosened the headstalls, speaking in a low, winsome voice to his pets. Both horses immediately looked round, and playfully bit at his coat-sleeve. Paddy at the same time drew aside. The voice that enticed them, evidently repulsed her.
Lawrence glanced over one glossy back, with a slightly amused expression, and remarked: