But Mrs. Penfold did not stop to speak to him. Gathering up her
voluminous black skirts, and her shawls that were falling off her
shoulders, she hurried upstairs. There followed a thin girl with dark
hair piled above dark eyes.
"Lydia is in the drawing-room," said Susy, with dramatic depth of voice;
and the two disappeared.
When he entered, Lydia was standing by the fire. The light of some
blazing wood, and of one small lamp, filled the pretty room with colour
and soft shadows. Among them, the slender form in its black dress, the
fair head thrown back, the outstretched hands were of a loveliness that
arrested him--almost unmanned him.
She came forward.
"You've been so long coming!"
The intonation of the words expressed the yearning of many days and
nights. They were not a reproach; rather, an exquisite revelation.
He took her hands, and slowly, irresistibly he drew her; and she came
to him. He bowed his face upon hers, and the world stood still! Through
the emotion of that supreme moment, with its mingled cup of joy and
remembered bitterness there ran for him a touch of triumph natural to
his temperament. She had asked no promise from him; reminded him of no
condition; made no reservation. There she was upon his breast. The male
pride in him was appeased. Self-respect seemed once more possible.
Hand in hand, they sat down together by the fire. He gave her an account
of the double inquest, and the result.
"When we came out," he added, calmly, "there were not quite so many ready
to lynch me as before.
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