So he had to go on to the hall-door, ring the bell, and enter the drawing-room from the passage.
"Oh, you are come back again!" said Dove, with mimic surprise, and with admirably simulated carelessness.
She held out her hand to him. She fancied he would be dreadfully astonished and perturbed by this cold reception—that they would have a nice little quarrel, and an explanation, and all the divine joys of making-up, before Mrs. Anerley could come down from the apple-closet, in which she had been engaged since breakfast-time. But, on the contrary, Will was neither surprised nor disturbed. He looked quite grave, perhaps a little sad, and took her hand, saying kindly—
"Yes, back again. I hope you have been well while I was away, Dove; and that you amused yourself."
Dove was alarmed; he had not even offered to kiss her.
"What is the matter with you, Will?" she said, with a vague fear in her pretty violet eyes.
"Why, nothing much."
"Is it I, then? Are you vexed with me, that you should be so cold with me after being away so long a time?"
There she stood, with her eyes downcast, a troubled look on her face, and both her hands pulling to pieces a little engraving she held.
"Why should I be vexed with you, Dove?" he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. He dared not kiss her: there dwelt on his lips yet the memory of that sad leave-taking of the night before.