A Tragic Surprise.
Half an hour later, Nan Rendell let herself out of the front door, and ran hurriedly down the steps. Her sailor hat was perched uncertainly on the top of her heavy braids, the buttons of her jacket were unfastened, and she drew on her gloves as she walked, as if she had been in too much haste to finish dressing before leaving the house. Several acquaintances saluted her as they passed, but she rushed along unconscious of their greetings, and presently arrived at the point in the high road where houses stopped and the little township began. The shops which Mrs Rendell patronised were indiscriminately situated on either side of the road, which no doubt accounted for Nan’s erratic dives to and fro. She peered her head round the corner of the draper’s door, dashed across the road and craned through the grocer’s window, stood on tip-toe to investigate the interior of the post office, then ran back once more, to interview the fishmonger, and ask if Miss Rendell had yet called to leave the morning order. It was in the confectioner’s that Maud was run to earth at last. She was coming out of the doorway counting her change into her purse, when suddenly Nan’s face confronted her, and she started back in surprise.
“You?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“But I thought your were going to work? I left you hard at it. Got a headache?”
“Fer-ightful!” said Nan; and her looks justified the word, for her cheeks were pale, and her eyes looked worn and strained. “I couldn’t work any longer. I thought a little walk would do me good, so came out to meet you.”
“But—er,”—Maud hesitated uncertainly. She did not wish to appear inconsiderate towards her beloved Nan, but, remembering her mother’s instruction, she could not bring herself to stay away from home longer than was necessary. She looked at her sister appealingly, and slid a hand through her arm.
“But—I’ve finished my shopping, dear, and mother said I was to go straight back. Wouldn’t it do just as well to sit in the garden? You would get the air without fatigue, and I’d make you so cosy in the deck chair. You know, Nan, I—I want to go back!”
Nan turned her head aside, and spoke in a queer, muffled tone.
“Very well; but we’ll go round the back way. It’s only five minutes longer, and it’s quiet. I don’t want to meet any one. You’ll do that to oblige me, won’t you, Maud, as you have finished your shopping?”