"Good!" she declared. "I like you so much better frivolous. Well, you
shall have your wish. You shall be my guardian for the evening. I have
one cutlet for dinner, and I am sure it will be spoilt. Will you come
and share it?"
She rose to her feet and stood looking down upon him. He was struck,
for the first time, by something different in her appearance. The
smooth, delicate girlishness of her young face was, as yet,
untroubled. Her eyes laughed frankly into his, and all the grace of
natural childhood seemed still to linger about her. And yet--there was
a change! Understanding was there; understanding, with sorrow in its
wake. Aynesworth was suddenly anxious. Had anything happened of which
he was ignorant? He rose up slowly. He was sure of himself now! Was he
sure of her?
A DEED OF GIFT
Wingrave threw the paper aside with an impatient exclamation. A small
notice in an obscure corner had attracted his attention; the young
man, Richardson, had been fished out of the river half drowned, and in
view of his tearful and abject penitence, had been allowed to go his
way by a lenient magistrate. He had been ill, he pleaded, and
disappointed. His former employer, in an Islington emporium, gave him
a good character, and offered to take him back. So that was an end of
Mr. Richardson, and the romance of his days!
A worm like that to have brought him--the strong man, low! Wingrave
thought with sullen anger as he leaned back in his chair with
half-closed eyes.
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