She dried her eyes and leaned back in her chair and looked out at the night, feeling the curious rest of exhaustion. The greyness of twilight crept into the room, it was peaceful though still sultry. He took her hand and said:
“I am glad I came.”
“So am I,” she said, cheerfully. Her mood had changed. “You saved me from unknown bother. He was most impertinent.”
In the other room Mrs. Phillips was becoming impatient. She was hungry. At tea-time Herbert’s conversation engrossed her, and now where was dinner?
She was also anxious to create a sensation, to surprise Launa and everyone by telling of her speedy marriage, which was to take place in one month exactly. And so she went into the music-room.
“Has that awful Carden man gone? I am so hungry, Launa dear. Do say you are hungry too, Mr. Wainbridge. I am going to be married in a month.”
She sighed.
“No wonder, then, that you are hungry,” said Mr. Wainbridge, “with that awful prospect you need restoratives of all sorts.”
“Lucky Mr. Herbert,” said Launa. “I congratulate him.”
“How nice of you,” said Mrs. Phillips. “I feared you might be small minded enough to congratulate me. He is in the drawing-room—starving too.”