“I will try to come by an earlier train, my darling, if you will be there to relieve me of the packages with which I hope to be burdened.”
“No. Come by the five fifteen,” he said decisively. “I have some letters to write.”
“Very well, my love,” she answered, with tender courtesy. “It is always a pleasure to study your wishes, even in trifles. Would you assist me with my cloak, dear Alfred?”
“It isn’t cold, and you have your shawl. Why are you taking this heavy cloak?”
“I have my reasons.”
He understood perfectly. He felt a gleam of almost fiendish triumph as, one by one, she divested herself of her belongings to buy him food and comfort. As she was going out of the doorway an idea seemed to strike him.
“Anne,” he said, “remember it is no good bringing back a few shillings—you must bring back a few pounds at least.”
“Have you any anxieties?—any payment it is imperative that you should make?” she asked anxiously.
“Yes,” he answered, with a little smile to himself, as if an idea had been suggested to him. “I have a payment to make.”
“I will do all I can—more for your sake than my own, dear Alfred,” and she turned to go. They were in the drawing-room.