“Mea is expecting you all to luncheon,” he said, “if I may so call our unconventional meal. Will you come?”
She nodded, making a funny little face, and rode away towards Mea’s house at Rupert’s side.
“Did you get my note,” she said suddenly, “and the enclosures?”
“Yes,” he answered, “his letter is very painful—very painful indeed, and the others are interesting. But we have agreed not to talk about those things, haven’t we, until the month is up?”
“Certainly, Rupert,” she answered, in a gentle voice. “So far as I am concerned, the past is all gone. I am here now, not to consider myself, but to do what you desire. I only wish to say that I am sorry if I spoke as I should not yesterday—and for many other things also, Rupert, but really it was hard to have to listen to all those bitter words, even if I deserved them.”
“I understand—very hard,” he said, flushing, “and now for the next month it is settled that we are going to be just friends, is it not?”
“Yes, Rupert, as you have ordered it,” she whispered, and glancing at her, he saw that there were tears standing in her blue eyes.
“This business is going to be even harder than I thought,” reflected Rupert to himself, and in another moment Mea, clad in her spotless white, was receiving them with gracious smiles and Oriental courtesy.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE WHEEL TURNS
This meal in Mea’s house proved to be the beginning of a very curious existence for the four persons chiefly concerned in our history. Every day, or almost every day, they met, and the solemn farce was carried on. Mea and Rupert played their parts of courteous hosts, Edith and Dick those of obliged and interested guests, while Tabitha watched them all with her quiet eyes and wondered what would befall when the truce came to an end. Soon she and Mea were very good friends, so good that from time to time the latter would even lift a corner of the veil of Eastern imperturbability which hid her heart, and suffer her to guess what pain and terrors racked her. Only of these matters they did not speak; not to do so was a part of the general conspiracy of silence.