“I made him an implied promise—and I would have kept it. I am glad I did so now.”
“It would have been difficult? Still, you loved him once.”
Violet turned her eyes away, and once more seemed to shiver. “No,” she said with a little quaver in her voice. “I seem to have realized since he went away that I never did. Still, until Nettie Harding told me, I fancied I did—and I believed in him. He was so generous, and light-hearted—and, though I am wickedly exacting, I am not hard all through. I can’t shake off the horror I feel because I am not more sorry now.”
Mrs. Wayne bent down and kissed her again. “My dear, I do not think the right man would find you hard,” she said. “Still, I am afraid you will die single. You expect too much.”
Appleby, who saw Violet and her mother twice before the week was out, found that the negotiations for an extension of building sites and water rights at Dane Cop which Craythorne had undertaken would delay him another week. The lawyer had urged him to wait in London, and pointed out the risk of recognition or an encounter with Sergeant Stitt; but Colonel Melton lived at a distance of several miles from Northrop, and Appleby for no very apparent reason preferred that vicinity. Then when the affair was decided, and there was nothing to delay his sailing for New York, he set out on foot on a farewell visit to Mrs. Wayne’s house, and, as it happened, did not find her or her daughter in. He went on to Low Wood, and discovering that Hester Earle half expected Violet spent an hour there in fierce impatience. The afternoon was rapidly wearing through, and as he had taken his passage by the “Cunarder” to sail from Liverpool on the following day it was essential that he should leave Darsley that night.
Still, Violet did not come, and he was proceeding ruefully towards Colonel Melton’s when he overtook her walking home. The light was growing dim, but he almost fancied that she started when she saw him. Her voice was, however, as quiet and low as usual when she greeted him.
“I am very glad I met you, because I could not find you at home, and I am going away to-night,” he said.
There was the slightest trace of astonishment and concern in the girl’s eyes. “Then you will come back with me,” she said.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” said Appleby, with a glance at his watch. “Still, with your permission, I will walk a little of the way with you.”
They went on together, and it was not because they desired it that Tony Palliser held a leading place in their thoughts, and twice at least Appleby mentioned him. Then the girl said slowly, “I have heard from Mr. Earle that you do not mean to clear yourself. That is very generous but—one must mention it—is it wise?”