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She withers Sir Nicholas with a parting glance, and then quits the room, Violet in her train, leaving her eldest son entirely puzzled. "It won't be her fault; but of course her people will object, which amounts to the same thing. She can't go against her people, you know." But to Geoffrey—lest the telling should cause him unhappiness—she had said nothing of her discovery; only when the morning came that saw him depart upon his mission (now so well understood by her), she had kissed him, and told him to "hurry, hurry, hurry back to her," with a little sob between each word. And when he was gone she had breathed an earnest prayer, poor child, that all might yet be well, and then told herself that, no matter what came, she would at least be a faithful, loving wife to him..
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"Now, that is very kind of you," she says, lifting her eyes, humid with tears, to his. "And I think it will take only a very little time to make me love you!" The Rodneys are, for the most part, in the library, the room dearest to them. Mona is telling Doatie's fortune on cards, Geoffrey and Nicholas are discussing the merits and demerits of a new mare, Lady Rodney in still struggling with the crimson sock,—when the door is opened, and Nolly entering adds himself to the group. Now will he seize this blessed opportunity, and, laden with the spoils of war, approach her dwelling (already she is "she"), and triumphantly, albeit humbly, lay the fern at her feet, and so perchance gain the right to bask for a few minutes in the sunshine of her presence. Nor motion, I might almost say,.
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