"Then why are you and I standing here like strangers?" she said, stamping her little foot.
She could not tell how things had all gone wrong; but they had gone wrong; and the meeting she had looked forward to with such pleasurable anticipation was an embarrassing failure.
At this moment Mrs. Anerley entered, and the girl saw her receive the kiss which had been denied to herself.
"You are not looking well, Will," said the observant mother. "Is your arm healing rightly?"
"Oh, yes, well enough."
"You are fatigued, then? Let me bring you some sherry."
She left the room, and then Dove—looking hesitatingly for a moment—ran forward to him, and buried her face in his bosom, and burst into tears.
"It was all my fault, dear," she sobbed. "I wanted to be angry with you, for not coming down by the first train—and—and I thought you would pet me, and make it up, you know—and I even forgot to ask about your arm; but it wasn't, dear, because I didn't think of it——"
"There, it's all right," he said. "I didn't notice you were vexed with me, or I should have made friends with you at once. There, now, you're only ruffling all your pretty hair, and such a delicate little collar you've got!"
"Oh!" she said, with smiles breaking through her tears, "you don't know what I have been making for you."