“We are going to fetch Auriol home from school,” said Lettice. “Would you come with us?” she added, looking up at her cousin.
“Certainly, with the greatest pleasure,” he said; and the three set off.
But they had not gone far when Lettice stopped and hesitated.
“If you won’t think me rude for changing my mind,” she said, “I think I would rather not go to-day. I want to write to Arthur.”
Nina looked at her in surprise, and a slight look of annoyance crossed Mr Auriol’s face. But Lettice did not see it.
“Of course it doesn’t matter,” said Nina good-naturedly. “But I don’t think you need be in such a very great hurry about writing to Arthur.”
“I want to write to-night,” Lettice repeated, “and I know Mr Auriol won’t mind;” and she smiled so pleasantly that the annoyance left his face.
“She is an odd girl,” he thought to himself. “However, it is as well perhaps that my walk is to be tête-à-tête with Nina and not with her. I might have been tempted to try the ground again in spite of Miss Branksome’s advice, and might have done more harm than good. With Nina I am quite safe.”
And, so far as Nina was concerned, the result of their talk was perfectly satisfactory. It was with a more hopeful feeling than he had yet had on the subject that Mr Auriol re-entered the cottage on their return from the walk to Gardon. He and Nina stood for a moment in the porch—they did not notice that Lettice was at an open window above, whence she could clearly see them, and for a moment or two Godfrey stood with Nina’s hand in his, her fair face, in which was more colour than usual, raised towards him.
“You may depend on me,” she said softly, “to do all I can. There is nothing—really nothing almost, that I wish so earnestly.”