Part 31 (2/2)

She pictured him at his lonely meals, sitting at the table where he had sat a moment or so agone; sitting on the settle where she was now sitting, certainly smoking, and possibly reading. She found herself wondering what he thought about. Did he ever think of the _Fort Salisbury_, she wondered? Or had he blotted it from his mind, as she had endeavoured--ineffectually--to do? And then, with that thought, with the possibility that he had done so, her presence in the room seemed quite suddenly an intrusion. What on earth would he think of her for coming?

And what on earth did she mean to say to him now she had come?

The impulse which had led her down the lane, which had caused her to pause at the gate and speak to him, all at once seemed to her perfectly idiotic, and, worse still, intrusive and impertinent. What possible excuse was she going to give for it, in the face of her behaviour to him that afternoon on the moorland? Merely to have asked for shelter on account of the heat, appeared to her now as the flimsiest of excuses, and would appear to him as an excuse simply to pry upon him, to see his mode of living. He had not returned to the parlour. Doubtless his absence was a silent rebuke to her. She had thrust the necessity of hospitality upon him, but he intended to show her plainly that it was entirely of necessity he had offered it.

Her cheeks burned at the thought. She looked quickly round. Anyhow there was still time for flight. She picked up her gloves from where she had laid them on the settle, and got to her feet.

”The water won't be long in boiling, Madam,” said Antony's voice.

He had come back quietly into the room. For a moment he glanced in half surprise to see the d.u.c.h.essa standing by the settle. Then he crossed to the dresser, and began taking down a cup, a saucer, and a plate.

The d.u.c.h.essa sat down again, drawing her hand nervously along her gloves.

She looked at him getting down the things and setting them on the table.

She watched his neat, deft movements. Antony took no notice of her; she might have been part of the settle itself for all the attention he paid her. His preparations made, he returned momentarily to the scullery to fill the teapot. Coming back with it he placed it on the table.

”Everything is ready, Madam,” he said. Dale himself could not have been more distantly respectful.

The d.u.c.h.essa looked at the one cup, the one saucer, and the one plate.

”Aren't you going to have some tea, too?” she asked.

”Servants do not sit down with their superiors,” said Antony.

The colour rose hotly in the d.u.c.h.essa's face.

”Why do you say that?” she demanded.

Antony lifted his shoulders, the merest suspicion of a shrug.

”I merely state a fact,” he replied.

”I wish you to,” she said quickly.

”Is that a command?” asked Antony.

”If you like to take it so,” she replied.

Antony turned to the dresser. He took down another cup and plate and put them on the table. Then he stood by it, waiting for her to be seated.

”Sugar?” asked the d.u.c.h.essa. She was making a brave endeavour to steady the trembling of her voice.

”If you please, Madam,” said Antony gravely.

The meal proceeded in dead silence.

”Mr. Gray,” said the d.u.c.h.essa suddenly.

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