"My dear Mr. Prentice. How kind of you—how very kind of you to come! I have been wishing so to see you."
Yates without delay disengaged herself from the furniture men, and brought in tea. Then the hostess seated herself at the table, and insisted that the visitor should occupy the easiest of the new armchairs—and she smiled at him, she waited upon him, she made much of him; she lulled and soothed and charmed him, until he felt as if twenty years had rolled away, and he and she were back again in the happiest of the happy old days.
"I trust that dear Mrs. Prentice is well.... Ah, yes, it is headachy weather, isn't it. I have ventured to send her a few flowers—and some peaches and grapes."
It seemed incredible. But she looked younger—many years younger than when he had seen her in the shadow cast by his office wall less than a week ago. Her voice had something of the old resonance; she sat more upright; she carried her head better. She was still dressed in black; but this new costume was of fine material, fashionable cut, very becoming pattern; and it gave to its wearer a quiet importance and a sedate but opulent pomp. Very curious! It was as if all that impression of shabbiness, insignificance, and poverty had been caused merely by the shadow; and that as soon as she came out of the shadow into the sunlight, one saw her as she really was, and not as one had foolishly imagined her to be.
This thought was in the mind of Mr. Prentice while he listened to her pleasantly firm voice, and watched the play of light and life about her kind and friendly eyes. The shadow that had lain so heavy upon her was mercifully lifted. She had been a prisoner to the powers of darkness, and now the sunshine had set her free. This was really all that had happened.
"I am so particularly glad," she was saying, "that you came to-day, because I want your advice badly."
"It is very much at your service."
"Then do you think there would be any objection—would you consider it might seem bad taste if henceforth I were to resume my old name? I have an affection for the name of Thompson—though it isn't a very high-sounding one."
"I noticed that Yates called you Mrs. Thompson."