‘No, it was postponed. I meant to have told you before, knowing you would be interested as the castle architect; but it slipped my memory in the bustle of arriving.’
‘I am not the castle architect.’
‘The devil you are not—what are you then?’
‘Well, I am not that.’
Somerset the elder, though not of penetrating nature, began to see that here lay an emotional complication of some sort, and reserved further inquiry till a more convenient occasion. They had reached the end of the level beach where the cliff began to rise, and as this impediment naturally stopped their walk they retraced their steps. On again nearing the spot where Paula and her aunt were sitting, the painter would have deviated to the hotel; but as his son persisted in going straight on, in due course they were opposite the ladies again. By this time Miss Power, who had appeared anxious during their absence, regained her self-control. Going towards her old lover she said, with a smile, ‘I have been looking for you!’
‘Why have you been doing that?’ said Somerset, in a voice which he failed to keep as steady as he could wish.
‘Because—I want some architect to continue the restoration. Do you withdraw your resignation?’
Somerset appeared unable to decide for a few instants. ‘Yes,’ he then answered.
For the moment they had ignored the presence of the painter and Mrs. Goodman, but Somerset now made them known to one another, and there was friendly intercourse all round.
‘When will you be able to resume operations at the castle?’ she asked, as soon as she could again speak directly to Somerset.