"Oh, no, this is quite right, thank you."
She drank a little of her tepid tea; and then, fumblingly, with fingers that were slightly trembling, she brought the little parcel out of her pocket and put it in his hand.
"What on earth is this?"
"Can't you guess?"
"No—I can't imagine—unless"— He was slowly unfolding the layers of tissue paper; and until the precious metal discovered itself, he did not raise his eyes. "Oh, I say! Janey! But you shouldn't have done it—you really shouldn't. It's too bad—altogether too bad of you."
"Dick!"
"Come upstairs and let me kiss you—or I shall have to kiss you here, with everybody looking at us."
Then Mrs. Marsden was well content with her little act of extravagance.
The culmination of the glorious weather came on Sunday. In the morning, when she emerged from the dim church where she had been pouring out her fervent gratitude for so much happiness, the glare of the sea-front almost blinded her. All the wide lawns by the sea were densely thronged with people, and amongst the moving crowd she searched in vain for her husband. He had said he would meet her for this church parade.
But at the hotel there was a note to explain his absence. "My friends," she read, "insist on carrying me off for a long run in their car. Shall try to be back for dinner. But don't wait."