At the sound of a voice he pushed
open the door, and went in.
Lady Cressage, looking up, noted, with aroused interest,
a marked change in his carriage. He stood aggressively erect,
his big shoulders squared, and his head held high.
On his massive face there was the smile, at once buoyant
and contained, of a strong man satisfied with himself.
Something impelled her to rise, and to put a certain
wistfulness of enquiry into her answering smile.
"Your headache is better then?" she asked him.
He looked puzzled for a moment, then laughed lightly.
"Oh--yes," he answered. Advancing, he caught her suddenly,
almost vehemently, in his arms, aud covered the face
that was perforce upturned with kisses. When she was
released from this overwhelming embrace, and stood panting
and flushed, regarding him with narrowed, intent eyes,
in which mystification was mellowed by the gleam of
not-displeased curiosity, he preferred a request which
completed her bewilderment.
"Mrs. Thorpe," he began, with significant deliberation,
but smiling with his eyes to show the tenderness
underlying his words--"would you mind if we didn't dress
for dinner this evening, and if we dined in the little
breakfast-room--or here, for that matter--instead
of the big place?"
"Why, not at all, if you wish it, "she answered
readily enough, but viewing him still with a puzzled glance.
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