“How could he know I was coming?” she thought, with a thrill of gratification nevertheless. “A letter must have miscarried. He must have written to me as well as to Florence.”
Chapter Eleven.
In the Fir-Coppice.
But the reassuring thrill lasted barely a moment. Suddenly, as Imogen walked on, feeling that every step was bringing the meeting nearer, a terrible, agonising rush of shyness and shame overwhelmed her. For the first time she realised that she was going, unbidden, uninvited, to seek an interview with this man whose position to herself was still so undefined, whose conduct had been so inexplicable! She, who had so proudly declared to her mother that not one finger would she move to influence him, were it the case that he had acted upon an impulse which he had afterwards regretted! It was all Trixie’s doing, she said to herself. Not that Trixie had suggested her taking Florence’s place, but she had alluded to the thing so simply, as if it were the most natural idea in the world to go to meet Rex on his way up.
“Florence would have given anything to go; she likes to get Rex to herself for a good talk. I wish he didn’t hate me so, for I’d like a good talk with him myself. I’m getting rather sick of his seeing everything through Florrie’s eyes.” And the chance had seemed so opportune that Imogen had seized it—in her eagerness to get the meeting over, to come to an explanation before her mother could complicate things by any interference—without realising the difference between her position and Florence’s.
She was well punished in these few seconds for her thoughtlessness. Unmaidenly and bold were among the mildest epithets she applied to herself, while her imagination sought in vain for some pretext or excuse in which she could find shelter. “But I can’t pretend I came by accident,” she thought; “he knows me too well, even if I could be so deceitful.”
So it was in utter indecision as to how she meant to bear herself that she at last met Major Winchester.
He was smiling; he looked well and cheerful. And he was feeling as he looked. He was relieved from anxiety about his sister, and there was a gleam of brightness in the clouds surrounding his engagement. And even though the smile was broken by a start, unperceived by Imogen, as he came near enough to recognise her, it soon appeared again.