CHAPTER XXV
MR. HARCOURT SPEAKS HIS MIND
'It is idle to talk a young woman in love out of her passion. Love does not lie in the ear.'—Horace Walpole.
Mrs. Blake was expecting them—had been expecting them for hours; Audrey could see that in a moment. The October evenings were chilly, and most people in Rutherford lighted a fire at sundown; so a clear little fire burnt in the drawing-room grate, and Mrs. Blake's favourite lamp with the pink shade cast a rosy glow over the little tea-table. The cups were ranged in due order, and some hot cakes were on the brass trivet, but the little tea-maker was not at her usual post. Only Mrs. Blake was standing alone in the middle of the room, and as Cyril led Audrey to her she threw her arms round the girl with almost hysterical violence. 'Oh, my dear, dear, dearest girl!' she exclaimed, pressing her with convulsive force; and Audrey felt a little embarrassed.
'I thought you would be looking for us,' she said, releasing herself gently; 'I asked Cyril to bring me—it seemed the right thing.'
'No, dear, it was not the right thing,' returned Mrs. Blake, almost solemnly; 'it was for me to come to you. But all the same, I knew Cyril would bring you; my boy would remember his mother even in his happiness.'
'It was not my thought,' began Cyril; but a very sweet look from Audrey checked him.
'What does it matter whose thought it was?' she said, in her direct way; 'if I asked him to bring me, it was because I knew it was what he wished, though he did not like to ask me. Dear Mrs. Blake, was it likely that I should stay away when we have always been such friends?'
For a moment Mrs. Blake seemed unable to answer. Some curious emotion impeded her utterance. She turned very pale and trembled visibly.