"And you must go?" And Averil felt a sinking of her heart as she put the question.
"I give you my word, I must; but I won't be long. There shall be no staying out to-night. I suppose"—looking at her wistfully—"that you would not let me kiss you, Ave?"
Averil drew back. She had forgiven him, but she was not quite ready for that. She had often permitted his brotherly caress, but somehow the scene of last night was still before her.
"I will shake hands instead, Rodney." But directly he had left the room she repented of her hardness. "I wish I had let him kiss me," she said to herself more than once that day.
To distract herself, Averil ordered the carriage after luncheon, and took Annette and Lottie for a long drive. They had tea at a little village inn, and put up the horses for a couple of hours. Then they drove back leisurely in the cool of the evening. The girls had filled the carriage with festoons of honeysuckle and all kinds of wild-flowers.
It was nearly nine when they returned. The little expedition had revived Averil, but her careworn look came back when Roberts told her that Mr. Rodney had not dined at home.
"Miss Seymour was asking about him just now, ma'am. She said her mother was quite anxious, for he had promised to come early."
Averil turned away without answering. She was sick at heart. Surely he had not forgotten his promise already? She was too weary to sit up: she was obliged to leave him to Roberts, who would have undergone any amount of fatigue to shield his young mistress. She let Unwin help her undress, and lay down in bed with the most miserable sense—that her trust was gone. Unwin saw the tears stealing through her closed eyelids. The faithful creature was relieved when worn-out Nature had its revenge, and Averil fell into a heavy sleep that lasted until late in the morning. She woke to find Unwin standing by the bed with a breakfast-tray, and an anxious expression on her pleasant face.
"You have slept finely, ma'am," she said, as she opened the window a little wider. "It seemed a pity to disturb you, but Miss Seymour seemed to think it was late enough."
"Why, it is ten o'clock!" replied Averil in dismay. "My good Unwin, you ought not to have let me sleep so long." And then, dropping her voice a little—"When did Mr. Rodney come home?"