He agreed to go. He reminded himself when he promised that he was merely a lover—when the promise was to be carried out he would be a husband. There is a difference between the doings of lovers and husbands; few people—especially women—realise this beforehand.
It was the twenty-sixth of October, and very cold. Launa had been for a long walk; the suspicion of frost was quite Canadian and exhilarating while it wearied her. She was staying at Shelton.
It was barely six. She was reading. She heard a carriage drive up and wondered who it could be.
The door opened, and announced by the new butler—Launa always had maids, but with the prospect of a husband she had engaged a butler—Mrs. Herbert and Captain Carden walked in.
The former looked very handsome; her face was unusually pink; her crape bonnet and long veil thrown back suited her.
“Lily!” said Launa, “how kind of you! I am so very glad to see you. You will stay, of course.”
She avoided Captain Carden’s hand.
“How are you?” he asked. “Well, I hope?”
Launa had turned to Lily, and did not answer his inquiries.
“Where is—where are the others?” asked Lily.