There was quite a long silence. Rose noticed the long shadows on the grass, was conscious of the brilliance of a bed of flowers in the sunset light.
“Robert!” she whispered at last. “But how——”
“It’s his writing name,” said Cecily, wearily. She had left off laughing now. “Oh, of course, you didn’t know, dear. As you say, you have been out of things——” Her voice trailed off without finishing the sentence.
Mrs. Summers mentally reviewed the preceding conversation. “O Cis,” she murmured, “I could kill myself for it. What a fool I am!—what a fool!”
CHAPTER III
“HERE’S Robert!” exclaimed Cecily, under her breath. “Don’t worry. I’m all right. It doesn’t matter.”
Rose saw with relief that though her face was still colorless it was quite calm, and almost before she had realized that a man was crossing the lawn towards them, she heard her voice again.
“Robert,” she said, “it’s Rose. She took me by surprise to-day.”
Kingslake put out his hand, smiling. “You have been expected for some time. Why, it’s—how many years?”
“Five,” returned Mrs. Summers, laconically.