Part 67 (2/2)

”I am surprised,” said Dot. ”Hugely surprised. But I'm very glad to see you,” she added. ”When did you come?”

”I have been here about half an hour,” he told her coolly. ”I went to the Rectory first, where I learned for the first time of your marriage. You forgot to mention that detail when you wrote. Hence my brotherly salute, which you must have missed on your wedding-day!”

At this point Dot remembered her other guest, and turned with flushed cheeks. ”Lady Carfax--Anne--you--you know my brother-in-law Nap?”

The pleading in her voice was unmistakable. She was evidently agitated, wholly at a loss how to manage a most difficult situation.

But Nap hastened to relieve her of the responsibility. He had dealt with difficult situations before. He went straight to Anne and stood before her.

”Are you going to know me, Lady Carfax?” he asked.

There was no arrogance in voice or bearing as he uttered the question. He looked as if he expected to be dismissed, as if he were ready at a word to turn and go. His eyes were lowered. His foot was already on the threshold.

But Anne stood speechless and rigid. For those few seconds she was as one stricken with paralysis. She knew that if she moved or tried to speak she would faint.

She wondered desperately how long it would be before he looked up, if perhaps he would go without looking at her, or if--ah, he was speaking again! His words reached her as from an immense distance. At the same instant his hands came to her out of a surging darkness that hid all things, grasping, sustaining, compelling. She yielded to them, scarcely knowing what she did.

”Lady Carfax has been overtiring herself,” she heard him say. ”Have you any brandy at hand?”

”Oh, dear Lady Carfax!” cried Dot in distress. ”Make her sit down, Nap.

Here is a cus.h.i.+on. Yes, I'll go and get some.”

Guided by those steady hands, Anne sank into a chair, and there the constriction that bound her began to pa.s.s. She s.h.i.+vered from head to foot.

Nap stooped over her and chafed her icy hands. He did not look at her or speak. When Dot came back, he took the gla.s.s from her and held it very quietly to the quivering lips.

She drank, responsive to his unspoken insistence, and as she did so, for a single instant she met his eyes. They were darkly inscrutable and gave her no message of any sort. She might have been accepting help from a total stranger.

”No more, please!” she whispered, and he took the gla.s.s away.

The front door was still open. He drew it wider, and the evening air blew in across her face. Somewhere away in the darkness a thrush was warbling softly. Nap stood against the door and waited. Dot knelt beside her, holding her hand very tightly.

”I am better,” Anne said at last. ”Forgive me, dear child. I suppose it has been--too much for me.”

”My dear, dear Anne!” said Dot impulsively. ”Would you like to come into the drawing-room? There is tea there. But of course we will have it here if you prefer it.”

”No,” Anne said. ”No. We will go to the drawing-room.”

She prepared to rise, and instantly Nap stepped forward. But he did not offer to touch her. He only stood ready.

When he saw that she had so far recovered herself as to be able to move with Dot's a.s.sistance, he dropped back.

”I am going, Dot,” he said. ”You will do better without me. I will look in again later.”

And before Dot could agree or protest he had stepped out into the deepening twilight and was gone.

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