“That is so. The stipulation was, I must get a good post. Well, my post is pretty good and I expect promotion; but to see Evelyn for two or three minutes is all I ask.”
Mrs. Haigh signified agreement, and Mrs. Carson said, “The lamps are lighted in the drawing-room.”
Evelyn went to the drawing-room and stopped by the fireplace. Kit leaned against a table a yard or two off. He knitted his brows, but his mouth curved, and Evelyn sensed ironical humor. In fact, she thought him like his uncle.
“Well?” she said, with an effort for calm.
“I’m not going to bully you. I want to know how far Mrs. Haigh is accountable for your dropping me. No doubt she used some persuasion!”
“You believe she coerced me?”
“It’s possible. When others thought me a thief and you’d have been justified to let me go, you were splendidly stanch.”
“I was very rash,” Evelyn rejoined. “But suppose I admitted I agreed to marry Ledward because my mother urged?”
“Then I’d see you did not!” said Kit in a quiet voice. “Although I’m not rich, I can support a wife, and I begin to go ahead. Perhaps my argument’s not a lover’s argument, but it has some weight. If you’ll risk the plunge, I’ll carry you off.”
Evelyn was moved and humiliated. Kit was the reckless, impulsive lover she had thought. Yet she felt she must punish him for her shabbiness, and she laughed.