"And you will be happy—always—if you're just a little patient," he said, rather huskily. "Jimmy's a spoilt boy, and—and—it's the women who have to show all of us—eh? It's the women who are our guardian angels; remember that!"
He hated himself for having had to blame her, even mildly, when the fault was so utterly and entirely Jimmy's. It seemed a monstrous thing that Christine should have to teach Jimmy unselfishness; he hoped he had not said too much.
But Christine was really much happier, had he known it. She went up to her room, and changed her frock for one of the few simple ones she had had new when she was married. She did her hair in a way she thought Jimmy would like; she sent one of the servants out for flowers to brighten the little sitting-room; she timidly ordered what she thought would be an extra nice dinner to please him. The waiter looked at her questioningly.
"For—for two, madam?" he asked hesitatingly.
"Yes, please. Mr. Challoner and I will dine up here this evening."
As a rule, Jimmy dined downstairs alone, and Christine had something sent up to her. She was vaguely beginning to realise now how foolish she had been. The little time she had spent with Sangster had been like the opening of a door in her poor little heart, letting in fresh air and common sense. After all, how could she hope to win Jimmy by tears and recriminations? She had heard the doctrine of "forgive and forget" preached so frequently; surely this was the moment in which to apply it to herself and him.
Her heart beat a little fast at the thought. She spoke again to the waiter as he turned to leave the room.
"And—and will you find out what wine Mr. Challoner has with his dinner, as a rule; and—and serve the same this evening."
The man hesitated, then:
"Mr. Challoner told me he should not be dining in this evening, madam," he said reluctantly. "He came in about three o'clock, and went out again; I think there was a message for him. He told me to tell you if you came in." He averted his eyes from Christine's blanching face as he spoke. "I am sure that is what Mr. Challoner said, madam," he repeated awkwardly.