‘Oh, I’m not going; at least, you are just coming away, aren’t you? I think it is too late. I’ll turn back with you.’
‘Do,’ she said, and looked at his capable, sensitive hand as he laid it on the side of her little carriage. Miss Anderson had not the accomplishment of palm-reading, but she took general manual impressions. She had observed Colonel Innes’s hand before, but it had never offered itself so intimately to her inspection. That, perhaps, was why the conviction seemed new to her, as she thought ‘He is admirable—and it is all there.’
When they got to the level Mall he kept his hold, which was a perfectly natural and proper thing for him to do, walking alongside; but she still looked at it.
‘I have heard your good news,’ she said, smiling congratulation at him.
‘My good news? Oh, about my wife, of course. Yes, she ought to be here by the end of the month. I thought of writing to tell you when the telegram came, and then I—didn’t. The files drove it out of my head, I fancy.’
‘Heavy day?’
‘Yes,’ he said, absently. They went along together in an intimacy of silence, and Madeline was quite aware of the effort with which she said:
‘I shall look forward to meeting Mrs. Innes.’
It was plain that his smile was perfunctory, but he put it on with creditable alacrity.
‘She will be delighted. My wife is a clever woman,’ he went on, ‘very bright and attractive. She keeps people well amused.’