Lady Joyce favoured Nance with a piercing and yet kindly glance. She held out her hand cordially.
“I am delighted to see you, Mrs. Rowton,” she said. “I hope to have the pleasure of calling on you to-morrow. It was a good day for us all when this young man married and elected to bring his bride back to Rowton Heights.”
Rowton smiled and said something in a light tone. His remark, of a trivial nature, amused the old lady; she laughed in a very hearty way, shaking her sides as she did so.
“Ah! you always were a sad dog,” she said. “Don’t forget that I have known you since you were as tall as that little lad,” pointing to Murray as she spoke. “Mrs. Rowton, I’ll have plenty of tales to tell you of that good husband of yours when we get better acquainted—so you had better keep in my good graces, young man, for you were a pickle when you were young.”
The good lady hobbled off to her carriage as she spoke. Rowton helped her in, and presently Nance, he, and the boy, returned home.
The rest of the day passed without anything special occurring. Rowton and his wife took a walk together. In the evening they sat in the library and Rowton told her stories with regard to several of the books. He never alluded to the sorrow which he knew was waiting for her the next day.
“Time enough,” he said to himself; “I need not leave here till three o’clock in the afternoon—there is a train at three-thirty which will take me to King’s Cross in sufficient time. Let me see, I need not tell her to-night, nor will I tell her to-morrow, until after lunch; we’ll have what happiness we can. After all it may be all right, and I may come back safe and sound, or——” he paused in his own thoughts. A picture rose up before his eyes. He saw himself a corpse, shot through the heart—such an event was more than probable. He knew that he was going into grave danger—that, in very truth, he was about to carry his life in his hand.
“No matter, but for her,” he said to himself. “I am sick of the whole thing, and to die fighting would be the heart of my desire; but I cannot leave her to face what may any moment be before her. No, I must court caution this time—I must avoid risks. Her happiness must come first with me—her happiness! Ah! Nance, what are you looking at me so earnestly for?”
“I see you are not reading,” said Nancy, flinging down her own book.