She longed--sometimes--to throw her arms round
him, and comfort him. Yet there was no passion in her longing. All that
young rising of the blood seemed to have been killed in her. But she would
never draw back from what she had offered him--never. She would go to him,
and stand by him--as Sir Wilfrid had said--if he wanted her.
The gong rang for luncheon. Marcia rose unwillingly; but she was still more
unwilling to make her feelings the talk of the household. As she neared the
dining-room she saw her mother approaching from the opposite side of
the house. Lady Coryston walked feebly, and her appearance shocked her
daughter.
"Mother!--do let me send for Bryan!" she pleaded, as they met--blaming
herself sharply the while for her own absorption and inaction during the
morning hours. "You don't look a bit fit to be up."
Lady Coryston replied in a tone which forbade discussion that she was quite
well, and had no need whatever of Dr. Bryan's attendance. Then she turned
to the butler, and inquired if Mr. Arthur was in the house.
"His motor came round, my lady, about twelve o'clock. I have not seen him
since."
The lunch passed almost in complete silence between the two ladies.
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