Part 22 (1/2)

For answer Mrs Adair put her hand on the bright head beside her.

”I understand, my girlie,” she said in a pain-wrung voice. ”I understand so well. G.o.d bless and help you and comfort you.”

Eileen could not trust herself to speak, but afterward she thanked G.o.d that He had given her so dear a mother.

So the three weeks pa.s.sed, and Lawrence came to say good-by. He would gladly have escaped the ordeal, but that he saw was impossible, so he drove over with his mother the last afternoon, at her suggestion. He need not have minded, for there was no change in anyone. Mrs Adair was far too proud to show by word or sign any symptom of her feelings, and both she and Eileen went through the afternoon with brave, smiling faces and perfectly natural manners.

Only when he was alone with Eileen for a few moments was there any constraint. Then, in spite of herself, she was white to the lips, and her hands played nervously.

Lawrence watched her covertly, and for the first time in his life felt a cur.

”Good-by,” she said, to break the almost unbearable silence, looking up with an effort at brightness.

He took her outstretched hand and looked hard into her eyes.

”Good-by, Eileen,” he answered, and hesitated a moment as if he would fain say something else. Then he suddenly dropped her hand, and went out to see about the horses.

Paddy was in the stables petting them with sugar and apples, and stroking lovingly their smooth, glossy coats, for she had a pa.s.sionate love for all animals. When Lawrence came in she glanced over her shoulder, and, seeing who it was, turned her back to him, and continued playing with the horses.

Lawrence watched her a moment, and the thought crossed his mind that in fire and spirit she was a good match for them.

The man went to pull out the phaeton, and Lawrence loosened the headstalls, speaking in a low, winsome voice to his pets. Both horses immediately looked round, and playfully bit at his coat-sleeve. Paddy at the same time drew aside. The voice that enticed them, evidently repulsed her.

Lawrence glanced over one glossy back, with a slightly amused expression, and remarked:

”I am not universally hated; you see. Castor and Pollux put up with me, in spite of my manifest shortcomings.”

”You feed them,” she retorted. ”All animals love the hand that gives them food.”

”Ah! I see we are to part enemies!”

”Better an honest enemy than a false friend,” icily.

”Yet I'm rather sorry,” he went on. ”I like you much too well to want to look upon you as my enemy.”

”I do not feel as flattered as you may suppose. It seems to me there is little enough to gain in being your friend.”

”Very likely,” and he shrugged his shoulders with a sudden return of his old cynicism. ”This seems likely to prove a striking ill.u.s.tration of my pet theory that it is wisest not to care. I had, forgotten it for the moment.”

The horses were harnessed and the man stood at their heads ready to lead them round to the door.

”Go on,” said Lawrence, ”I will follow.”

He turned again to Paddy.

”You have far more occasion to be glad than angry,” he said, ”but it is hardly likely you will see it yet. By and by--say in five years' time-- you will understand. At present you do not know your world.”

”Nothing will change my estimate of you,” she answered cuttingly. ”I wish Miss Gwendoline, what's-her-name--Carew, joy of her bargain.”

”Now we are descending to personalities,” with a fine sneer, ”so perhaps I had better depart.”

”A most excellent notion, O Theophilus!” tossing her small head.