He found Cara, surrounded by a small army of vases, arranging
flowers, of which a great sheaf, freshly sent in by the gardener from the
hot-houses, lay on the table.
"Aren't they lovely?" she said, when she and Robin had exchanged greetings.
"Do you want a buttonhole?"
He looked at the deep-red carnation which she held out to him and shook his
head.
"No, thank you," he said politely. "I want a wife."
Cara gasped a little.
"Robin!" she exclaimed faintly.
A lovely colour flooded her face. It had been a much happier face
latterly--since Ann's engagement. The look of settled sadness had gone out
of her eyes. She felt now--now that everything was made straight betwixt
Ann and Eliot--as though the heavy burden she had carried all these years
had been suddenly loosed from her shoulders. Eliot had found happiness, at
last, and that terrible sense of responsibility for his maimed and broken
life was taken from her. Of the existence of the grey shadow she could not
know, or guess.
So she turned to Robin with a sweet hesitancy that brought him swiftly to
her side.
"Cara!" he said eagerly. "Cara, are you going to give me that
'second-best,' after all?"
Still she hesitated.
Pages:
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418