It was not till the end of half an hour that two figures were seen above the parapet of the dreary old pile, motionless as bitterns on a ruined mosque. Even then Stephen was not true enough to perform what he was so courteous to promise, and he vanished without making a sign.
He returned at midday. Elfride looked vexed when unconscious that his eyes were upon her; when conscious, severe. However, her attitude of coldness had long outlived the coldness itself, and she could no longer utter feigned words of indifference.
“Ah, you weren’t kind to keep me waiting in the cold, and break your promise,” she said at last reproachfully, in tones too low for her father’s powers of hearing.
“Forgive, forgive me!” said Stephen with dismay. “I had forgotten—quite forgotten! Something prevented my remembering.”
“Any further explanation?” said Miss Capricious, pouting.
He was silent for a few minutes, and looked askance.
“None,” he said, with the accent of one who concealed a sin.
Chapter V
“Bosom’d high in tufted trees.”
It was breakfast time.