Chapter Twenty Two.
To Err is Human.
Instead of keeping behind her straight home, I turned from the main road, and with my mind full of gloomy thoughts, wandered about the dark, quiet thoroughfares in the neighbourhood of Campden Hill until, having walked for over an hour undecided how to act, I awoke to a consciousness that I was before my own house.
When I entered I opened a telegram lying on the hall table, and found it was from Lord Warnham, stating that he was leaving the Premier’s suddenly, and asking me to call at Berkeley Square at six. It was then a quarter to six, and I saw that even by cab I must be ten minutes late for the appointment.
“Has my wife returned, Juckes?” I asked my faithful man, who stood ready to relieve me of hat and coat.
“Yes, sir. She returned an hour ago, and is now in the drawing-room.”
My first impulse was to return to Berkeley Square without seeing her, but unable longer to bear the suspense, I allowed Juckes to take my things, and entered the room, where she awaited me.
“Ah! Geoffrey!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet with an expression of joy, and coming forward to meet me. “I expected you home long ago, dearest.” And she raised her face for the habitual kiss.
“Oh,” I said coldly, placing her away from me without caressing her. “Have you been home long?”
“A long, long time,” she answered, regarding my coldness with unfeigned surprise.