But it did not come. Mrs Rimbolt knew herself to be in the wrong. Her husband, she knew, if she laid the case before him, would judicially inquire into its merits, and come to the same conclusion. In that case her dominion would be at an end. Even the Mrs Rimbolts have an eye to the better half of valour sometimes, and so Jeffreys was left sitting for an ultimatum which did not come.
Raby had a still worse ordeal before her. At first her indignation had reigned supreme and effaced all other emotions. Gradually, however, a feeling of vague misery ensued. She longed to be away in India with her dear soldier father; she wished Jeffreys had never come under the Wildtree roof to bring insult on himself and wretchedness to her. She dreaded the future for her boy cousin without his protector, and half wished him dead and safe from temptation.
In due time her brave spirit came back. She despised herself for her weakness, and, resolved boldly to face her aunt and every one, she came down to dinner.
It was strictly a family party, with Mrs Scarfe added; for the other three visitors had not yet returned from Windsor. Raby sought protection from her aunt by devoting herself to Mrs Scarfe, and quite delighted that good lady by her brightness and spirit. Mrs Scarfe took occasion in the drawing-room afterwards to go into rhapsodies to her young friend regarding her son; and when about ten o’clock the holiday-makers arrived home, in high spirits and full of their day’s sport, she achieved a grand stroke of generalship by leaving the two young people together in the conservatory, having previously, by a significant pressure of her son’s arm, given him to understand that now was his time for striking while the iron was hot.
Scarfe was in an unusually gay mood, and still a little elevated by the festivities of the day.
“I’m sure you missed us,” said he, “didn’t you?”
“The house was certainly much quieter,” said Raby.
“Do you know,” said he, “it’s rather pleasant to feel that one is missed?”
Raby said nothing, but began to feel a desire to be safely back in the drawing-room.
“Do you know we drank toasts to-day, like the old knights, to our lady loves?” continued Scarfe.