Part 30 (1/2)

”Bobby,” she said, ”you hate a lie. But what else could I do?”

He could not see her, could see only the little moon of her face, blurring.

”And anyhow,” said Di, ”it wasn't a lie. We _didn't_ elope, did we?”

”What do you think I came for to-night?” asked Bobby.

The day had aged him; he spoke like a man. His very voice came gruffly.

But she saw nothing, softened to him, yielded, was ready to take his regret that they had not gone on.

”Well, I came for one thing,” said Bobby, ”to tell you that I couldn't stand for your wanting me to lie to-day. Why, Di--I hate a lie. And now to-night--” He spoke his code almost beautifully. ”I'd rather,” he said, ”they had never let us see each other again than to lose you the way I've lost you now.”

”Bobby!”

”It's true. We mustn't talk about it.”

”Bobby! I'll go back and tell them all.”

”You can't go back,” said Bobby. ”Not out of a thing like that.”

She stood staring after him. She heard some one coming and she turned toward the house, and met Cornish leaving.

”Miss Di,” he cried, ”if you're going to elope with anybody, remember it's with me!”

Her defence was ready--her laughter rang out so that the departing Bobby might hear.

She came back to the steps and mounted slowly in the lamplight, a little white thing with whom birth had taken exquisite pains.

”If,” she said, ”if you have any fear that I may ever elope with Bobby Larkin, let it rest. I shall never marry him if he asks me fifty times a day.”

”Really, darling?” cried Ina.

”Really and truly,” said Di, ”and he knows it, too.”

Lulu listened and read all.

”I wondered,” said Ina pensively, ”I wondered if you wouldn't see that Bobby isn't much beside that nice Mr. Cornis.h.!.+”

When Di had gone upstairs, Ina said to Lulu in a manner of cajoling confidence:

”Sister----” she rarely called her that, ”_why_ did you and Di have the black bag?”

So that after all it was a relief to Lulu to hear Dwight ask casually: ”By the way, Lulu, haven't I got some mail somewhere about?”

”There are two letters on the parlour table,” Lulu answered. To Ina she added: ”Let's go in the parlour.”

As they pa.s.sed through the hall, Mrs. Bett was going up the stairs to bed--when she mounted stairs she stooped her shoulders, bunched her extremities, and bent her head. Lulu looked after her, as if she were half minded to claim the protection so long lost.

Dwight lighted the gas. ”Better turn down the gas jest a little,” said he, tirelessly.