Laura is trembling a little. ‘Mr. Don——’
‘Yes, Laura?’
‘I think there is something wicked about me. I sometimes feel—quite light-hearted—though Dick has gone.’
‘Perhaps, nowadays, the fruit trees have that sort of shame when they blossom, Laura; but they can’t help doing it. I hope you are yet to be a happy woman, a happy wife.’
‘It seems so heartless to Dick.’
‘Not a bit; it’s what I should like,’ Dick says.
‘It’s what he would like, Laura.’
‘Do you remember, Laura,’ Dick goes on, ‘I kissed you once. It was under a lilac in the Loudon Woods. I knew at the time that you were angry, and I should have apologised. I’m sorry, Laura.’
His sweetheart has risen, tasting something bitter-sweet. ‘What is it, Laura?’ Mr. Don asks.
‘Somehow—I don’t know how—but, for a moment I seemed to feel the smell of lilac. Dick was once—nice to me under a lilac. Oh, Mr. Don——’ She goes to him like a child, and he soothes and pets her.