"Never. Oh, never. One can't fancy Paul offending anybody," said Sue, with a smile.
"I told him all about Leo before he came here—but he made me repeat it after he had seen her, and I know—I am sure he felt for her. Well, I shan't ask Leo to walk with him again, that's certain;"—and only half appeased she went to make ready herself.
Leo, however, had not always escaped a tête-à-tête with the person she was thus bent on avoiding. She had seen him one evening in the lower garden, and hoping she was herself unseen, had escaped into the vineries, which, however, had afforded but a poor shelter, the branches being nearly bare of leaf. Paul had seen some one within as he passed the window, and entered also.
It was not till he had done so, and shut the door after him, that he discovered whose solitude it was he had invaded, and then it was too late to retreat. He could only offer his assistance in what she was doing—gathering the crimson vine leaves which fluttered here and there—and with his stick hook down those out of reach. Then all of a sudden a heavy autumn shower rattled upon the glass roof overhead, and there was nothing for it, for the two thus caught and trapped, but to wait till it was over.
They sat down on the low staging, and at first they hardly spoke.
But presently Leo grew frightened; the long, intimate silences startled her. Suppose Paul—? No, of course not that,—but he might think her odd and rude, and even seek some sort of explanation? She started talking hurriedly, and it was nearly an hour before the sky cleared.
Thereafter Leo knew what she had to expect should she and Paul be thrown together. She had gradually felt her defences giving way, her voice had grown low and sweet, and much that was hidden in the depths of her inner being, had welled up and overflowed into his listening ear. All along she had known this would happen once the barriers were down between her and Paul Foster; even when she sought to belittle him to herself at the outset, she had a terrible underlying consciousness of it,—and looking back upon the hour, feeling over again the fragrant warmth of the atmosphere, hearing the splashing of the rain, and smelling the bitter scent of the vines, she laid her head upon her arms and cried as if her heart would break.
But we know how Maud's request was met, and how one person at Boldero Abbey would fain with her own voice have bidden Maud's lover begone from it for ever.
Other voices, real voices, however, with one accord bewailed his departure when it came.