Linda caught at Nance’s sleeve. “I think I’ll let you go without me,” she whispered. “I feel rather tired.”
Nance looked anxiously into her eyes. “I’d come back with you,” she murmured, “but it would hurt their feelings. You’d better lie down a little. I’ll be back soon.” Then, in a lower whisper, “They did it to cheer us up. They’re dear, absurd people. Take care of yourself, darling.”
Linda stood for a while after she had bidden them all good-bye and watched them move down the street. In the misty sunshine there was something very gentle and appealing about Nance’s girlish figure as she walked between the two men. They both seemed talking to her at the same time and, as they talked, they watched her face with affectionate and tender admiration.
“She treats them like children,” said Linda to herself. “That’s why they’re all so fond of her.”
She walked slowly back up the street; but instead of entering her house, she drifted languidly across the green and made her way towards the park gates.
She felt very lonely, just then—lonely and full of a heart-aching longing. If only she could catch one glimpse, just one, of the man who was so dear to her—of the man who was the father of her child.
She thought of Adrian’s recovery and she thought vaguely and wistfully of the coming of Baptiste. “I hope he will like us,” she said to herself. “I hope he will like us both.”
Hardly knowing what she did, she passed in through the gates and began moving up the avenue. All the tragic and passionate emotions associated with this place came over her like a rushing wave. She stopped and hesitated. Then with a pitiful effort to control her feelings, she turned and began retracing her steps.
Suddenly she stopped again, her heart beating wildly. Yes, there were footsteps approaching her from the direction of Oakguard. She looked around. Brand Renshaw himself was behind her, standing at a curve of the avenue, bareheaded, under an enormous pine. The horizontal sunlight piercing the foliage in front of him shone red on the trunk of the great tree and red on the man’s blood-coloured head.
She started towards him with a little gasping cry, like an animal that, after long wandering, catches sight of its hiding-place.