“The ride has done you good,” said the latter, giving his hand to Helen and noting the light in the girl’s eyes as they walked toward the hall.
“I have left my scarf in the car,” said Helen, turning back so quickly that Mr. Cartwright had no opportunity to offer his services.
Armstrong and Inez were standing together on the step, and as Helen approached she could not help overhearing her husband’s reply to Miss Thayer’s inquiring looks.
“You are the only one who understands me,” Armstrong was saying—“you are the only one!”
XV
The next afternoon was a warm one, and Annetta searched for some little time before she discovered Uncle Peabody half concealed within a natural arbor formed by the falling branches of an ancient tree. Here, in the cooling shade, he was reading over a budget of letters just received from America. Emory followed close behind the maid, and laughed heartily at Mr. Cartwright’s jump of startled surprise when Annetta broke into his absorption with the announcement of “Signor Emori.”
“Hello, Emory!” he cried, looking up genially from the letter in his hand. “I was thousands of miles away, and two words from the lips of the gentle serving-maid brought me back to Florence. Marconigrams are nothing compared with the marvellous exhibition you have just witnessed.”
“It is a shame to interrupt you,” Emory apologized. “I came up early hoping to have a little chat with you before Professor Tesso and tea-time arrived.”