Lady Forsyth drew in her lips and at once his hands came down on her shoulders.
‘Look here, Mums, I won’t have you antagonising and doubting her any more—after this. It spoils everything. You might make an effort if only for my sake. It’s beyond belief getting her back; and your attitude’s the only flaw in my happiness. Has been all along.’
She was silent a minute, then she put her two hands on his breast. ‘Dear, I will make an effort for your sake. I refuse to be the flaw in your happiness! It’s a degrading position for a mother.’
He stooped and kissed her for the first time since Wednesday morning. ‘Bless you!’ he said. ‘Good-night.’
Alone in her room, confronting this new, unwelcome development, she realised how, through all the pain of his grief, she had been upheld by the secret conviction that his loss was gain; some day he would know it. Now the old miserable uncertainty was nagging at her afresh. In her heart, she distrusted the sincerity of the whole incident. But she had given her word to Mark, and Bel should have the benefit of all the doubts in creation.
Mark’s watch was three minutes short of the half-hour when he stood outside the square grey house perched on the hillside above the road. A white curtain fluttered; and a glimpse of Bel’s face signified that the coast was clear.
When he entered the homely sitting-room and closed the door she did not run to meet him as a simpler woman would have done. She remained standing near the mantelpiece on the farther side of the square table, smiling her cool provocative smile.
‘Mark!’ she said softly. ‘I’ve been wondering and wondering would you really come?’
By that time the square table was no longer between them and Mark was holding her as if he could never let her go.
‘Would you have broken your heart, if I hadn’t?’ he asked at last.