Anne gave a little subdued scream when Gabriel told her that Mrs. Capel had divorced her husband, a little gasp.
“Oh dear, oh dear!” It was impossible to say more under the circumstances, she could not make a scene here.
“You will be able to find your way back all right?” he asked her. The bells were clashing now almost above their heads, clashing slowly to the finish.
“I’m sure I don’t know whether I am standing on my head or my heels.”
“You will be all right when you are inside.”
“I haven’t even got my smelling-salts with me, I promised to leave off carrying them.” She was almost crying with agitation.
“You will be all right,” he said again. He waited until she had gone through the door, the little bent figure in its new coat and skirt and Victorian hat tied under the chin. Then he was free to return on swift feet to Carbies to await Margaret’s coming. He walked so swiftly that although it had taken them twenty minutes to get there he was barely ten in coming back. He hurried faster when he saw there was a figure at the gate.
“It is too fine to be indoors this morning. I am going down to the sea. I yearn for the sea this morning. Go up to the house, will you? Fetch a cushion or so. Then we can be luxurious.” He executed his commission quickly, and when he came up to her again had not only a cushion but a rug on his arm. She said quickly:
“What a wonderful morning! Isn’t it a God-given morning?”
“All mornings are wonderful and God-given that bring me to you,” he answered little less soberly, walking by her side. “Won’t you lean a little on me, take my arm?”