With no answering smile on his face, he exclaimed, "Amazing!"
He put the key in the lock, and turning it pushed open the glass door. Then he fell back so that she should pass in before him.
"Jane," he muttered hoarsely, "Jane, you know what I would say to you—how truly I wish you joy——"
She looked up, and then quickly cast down her eyes. Wantele had grown very pale, across his plain face was written suffering and renunciation.
"I knew," she said in a low voice, "I knew that you would wish me joy."
Neither spoke again till they reached the Greek Room.
There Wantele left her, and then Richard Maule also said his word, his dry word, of congratulation.
"I like your soldier, Jane! You know what I had hoped would happen—but things that I hope for never do happen——"
But apart from these two interludes, the first afternoon of Jane Oglander's stay at Rede Place passed exactly as had passed innumerable other afternoons spent by her there in recent years. She took a walk with Dick round the walled gardens which were his special interest and pleasure; she read aloud for a while to Richard.
Nothing was changed, and yet everything was different. Last time Miss Oglander had stayed at Rede Place, she had been almost daughter to Richard Maule, almost wife to Dick Wantele. Now she was about to pass for ever out of their lives, and on all three of them the knowledge lay heavy.