“I came over to bring you a brace of pheasants,” he explained. “As you were out, I deposited them in the care of your parlourmaid.”
Cara thanked him cordially, and then, as he still lingered, she added:
“Won’t you turn back and come in for a cup of tea? Have you time?”
“I should think I have!” The mercurial rise in Robin’s spirits betrayed itself in the tones of his voice. “I was hoping for an invitation to tea—so you can imagine my disappointment when I found that you weren’t home.”
She laughed, and they walked up to the house together, Robin leading his horse. A cheery fire burned on the hearth in the square, old-fashioned hall which Cara had converted into a living-room. As they entered she switched on the lights, revealing panelled walls, thick dim-hued rugs breaking an expanse of polished floor, and, by the fire, big, cushioned easy chairs which seemed to cry aloud for some one to rest weary limbs in their soft, capacious embrace.
“Ann’s always envious of your electric light,” remarked Robin. “Being only cottage folk”—smiling—“we have to content ourselves with lamps, and they seem prone to do appalling things in the way of smoking and covering the whole room with greasy soot the moment you take your eye off them.”
“I know. They’re a frightful nuisance,” said Cara, ringing the bell for tea. “But lamp-light is the most becoming form of illumination, you know—especially when you’re getting on in years, like me!”
Robin helped her off with her coat, lingering a little over the process, and gazed down at her with adoring eyes.
“Don’t—talk—rubbish!” he said, softly and emphatically.
Perhaps he might have gone on to say something more, but at that moment a trim parlourmaid came in and began to arrange the tea-table beside her mistress’s chair, and for some time afterwards Cara skilfully contrived to keep the conversation on impersonal lines. It was not until tea was over that Robin suddenly struck a more intimate note again. He had been watching her face in silence for a little while, noticing that it looked very small and pale to-day in its frame of night-dark hair, and that there were faint, purplish shadows beneath her eyes.