"Has anything vexed you, Uncle Richard?"
"A little, Carine. When one waits for the sight of a dear face, and the hours go by in expectation, hour after hour, from the opening of the day to its close, the disappointment brings a chill."
Caroline wondered. She did not understand that longing waiting yet. "Do you allude to Edward, Uncle Richard?"
Whom else should he allude to? Since Richard's death, Edward Davenal had grown dearer than ever son did to father. Dr. Davenal could willingly have laid down his life for him, and thought it no sacrifice. Ah! if these sons and daughters could but realise this precious love that is lavished on them in all its strange intensity!
"Aunt Bettina's vexed that he is not here. She says it will be putting the dinner off."
"We are too impatient, Caroline. I daresay he could not get here sooner. Here's Mark," added the doctor.
Dr. Davenal's carriage was drawing up to the gate. The doctor had despatched Mark in it that afternoon to see a country patient: he waited at home for his son. Roger looked to the house as Mr. Cray got out, wondering whether the carriage was wanted again, or whether he might drive it round to the coach-house. Dr. Davenal raised his hand by way of signal, and was hastening out.
"Won't you come and see my teapot and things, Uncle Richard?" cried Caroline, piteously.
"When I come back, Carine. The teapot can wait."
"And there's that note on the table," she said, resenting the slight on the teapot. "You have never opened it."