Layard opened the door with his latch-key. The two men went into the front room, and in a few minutes Hetty appeared with the tea-pot. She coloured deeply on seeing Ray with her brother. She had not heard the footfalls of two people, and was not prepared to find him there. He had never before come in with Alfred, and a suspicion of what had occurred flashed through her mind.
She did not speak to Ray. She felt confused, and half-pretended, even to herself, that she did not know he was present. Her brother went to her and put his arm round her waist and kissed her cheek, and then drew her over to the chimney-piece, where Ray stood, feeling somewhat like a thief.
"You forgot to say good-evening to Ray," said the brother.
"Good-evening," said she, in a low voice, holding out her hand.
Ray took the long slender hand, feeling still more dishonest and shamefaced and miserable.
When the fingers of the lovers touched, Layard caught the joined hands in both his, and pressed them softly and silently together; then, turning away, he stepped quickly to the window, and stood a long time looking at the dead wall opposite through misty eyes.
"I don't think we shall have that storm," said Ray at length.
Layard turned round. Hetty was pouring out the tea, and Ray was standing with his back to the chimney-piece.
"No," said Layard, "I fancy it is passing away. My arms feel easier."
Hetty was smiling, but looking pale.