Whether there was in this an absolute coincidence or just
that amount of calculation which might follow on his part from receipt
of a note written from Sea House--saying that Miltoun was well again,
that she was coming up and meant to go and thank Mrs. Noel--was not
clear, nor were her own sensations; and she drew over her face that
armoured look which she perhaps knew Courtier could not bear to see. His
face, at all events, was very red when he shook hands. He had come,
he told Mrs. Noel, to say good-bye. He was definitely off next week.
Fighting had broken out; the revolutionaries were greatly outnumbered.
Indeed he ought to have been there long before!
Barbara had gone over to the window; she turned suddenly, and said:
"You were preaching peace two months ago!"
Courtier bowed.
"We are not all perfectly consistent, Lady Barbara. These poor devils
have a holy cause."
Barbara held out her hand to Mrs. Noel.
"You only think their cause holy because they happen to be weak.
Good-bye, Mrs. Noel; the world is meant for the strong, isn't it!"
She intended that to hurt him; and from the tone of his voice, she knew
it had.
"Don't, Lady Barbara; from your mother, yes; not from you!"
"It's what I believe. Good-bye!" And she went out.
She had told him that she did not want him to go--not yet; and he was
going!
But no sooner had she got outside, after that strange outburst, than she
bit her lips to keep back an angry, miserable feeling.
Pages:
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265