"I was only thinking how full your life is, and how happy you must be!" returned Waveney, simply; and a faint flush rose to Althea's cheek.
"All lives ought to be full," she said, gravely. "It always makes me angry when people talk of empty, blighted, or disappointed lives;" and her tone was so severe that Waveney felt vaguely surprised.
"But, Miss Harford," she observed, timidly, "a great many women are disappointed, you know."
"Oh, yes, of course, life is as full of disappointments as this bush is full of blackberries this morning. But, all the same, they have only themselves to blame if their existence is dull and colourless. There is too much mawkish sentiment talked at the present day," she went on. "I was only telling my girls so the other day. When trouble comes to a woman—and Heaven knows they have their share of suffering: I suppose, for their soul's good—it is no good creeping along the ground like a bird with a broken wing; they must summon all their pluck, and fight their way through the thorns. Of course, even the brave ones get a little torn and scarred, but they are too proud to show their wounds. Look, here comes my sister, and we will change the subject." And then, as Doreen joined them, they walked on quickly; but Althea's blue eyes had a strange glow in them.
When Waveney reached Sloane Square she found Mollie had kept her word, and was on the platform to receive her. She gave a little cry when she saw Waveney, and more than one passer-by looked round with kindly amusement as the sisters rushed into each other's arms.
"Oh, Mollie, how lovely you look! What have you done to yourself?" But Mollie only laughed. And then, like two children, they walked up the stairs hand-in-hand. And to Mollie it might have been the golden ladder that leads to Paradise. Her dearer self, her twin sister, was beside her, and the five blank days were over.
"Father and Noel have gone for a walk," she said, as they turned down King Street. "I shall have you to myself for a whole hour. Oh, Wave, how are we to talk fast enough!—so much has happened even in these five days! I wish I could write clever letters like you. But I am so stupid!"
"Nonsense, sweetheart. Why, I loved your letters, and always slept with them under my pillow."
"Did you, really? Oh, Wave, what a darling you are! But, of course, I did the same. And I was so amused at your meeting 'the noticeable man, with the large grey eyes.' Father heard me chuckling, and he insisted on my reading your letter to him; but he was quite startled when I came to Mr. Chaytor's name. I don't think he was quite pleased."
"What makes you think that, Mollie, dear."