In the break that followed, both turned and looked after the dog-cart. Dolly spoke first. “There!” she said, clasping her hands together; “now it’s done!”
“They had no business to listen,” Lal said. It was his embarrassment that spoke, but Dolly turned on him in a flash. “Lucian listen? Lucian would no more listen than you would. They could not help seeing.” Again she pressed her hands together, and let them drop at her side with a gesture unconsciously tragic. “I wish it had not happened so, Lal!”
“I don’t wonder you like him; he’s very attractive.”
“I’m so sorry for him!” She lifted her candid eyes. “Because I say little, never think I don’t feel. Well, it can’t be helped now.” She turned the basket upside down over the pigeons crowding round her feet, and brushed the husks from her skirt. “Did you bring them back with you? Did you know they were coming? Last night’s paper said they were rescued, no more.”
Lal gave her an evening journal, price three centimes, whose themes were murder and sudden death and the seventh commandment, all printed in vile black type upon villanous drab paper. “When I got to Namur I saw this. I thought it useless to go on,” he said, while Dolly skimmed through a highly sensational narrative of Farquhar’s heroism and Lucian’s fortitude. “I actually travelled in the same carriage with De Saumarez, but I did not recognise him. Last time we met I think he had not shaved for several days,” he finished, with a smile. Dolly let her paper drop against her skirt.
“I never should have sent you, Lal; I ought to have known better. I to think he had hurt Lucian! Oh, I have been a fool. A baby could not be more harmless than Noel Farquhar when he cares for any one; and he does care for Lucian. There, I’ve been in the wrong all through. I like him; I like both of them. This is a hateful affair. I wonder, I do wonder what they’ll do.”
“I should fancy that Farquhar will console himself within the year,” said Lal, perversely. “I’m very sorry for De Saumarez.”
“That is sheer prejudice. Lucian is far more likely to get over it soon than Noel Farquhar. In fact, I don’t believe he ever will get over it. Well!” She looked away at the golden sky, sighing, her brows drawn down. “I can’t go to them myself, that’s certain, nor can you. I must write and explain, I suppose.”
“Dolly,” Lal said, detaining her, “you have never told me which, after all, you meant to take when you summoned them in that fashion.”
“I dare say you’ll think me a fool,” Dolly said, after a pause. “I hate vacillating people myself; but the truth is—I could not make up my mind. I could hardly bear to refuse Lucian; yet Noel Farquhar fascinated me, I don’t deny it. His is such a strong character, and he did care for me. Then Lucian was penniless, while Mr. Farquhar was rich and in a good position; and I’m ambitious, Lal. Besides, Bernard was continually warning me against him. And I was so completely in love with you that I did not very much care what I did with myself. You did trouble me so,” she broke off, her voice softening to a richer inflection. “You almost broke my heart. I was so proud of you for being what you are; and to find you in that place! I could have died for grief; I could have beaten out my eyes for seeing it.”