She heard a small clock chime the half-hour.
A minute later Fishpingle and Charles came in. Charles carried several books. Fishpingle was dressed in a dark grey suit, and she noticed at once that he had ceased to be the butler. He bore himself with quiet dignity, but his face indicated vigils, being very pale and haggard. Charles placed the books upon the desk and retired. Lady Pomfret rose.
She held out her hand with a gracious gesture. He took it reverently, bowing over it. She saw that he was too moved to speak. Placidly she continued:
“You look worn. Did you get any sleep last night?”
“I was busy with the books, my lady,” he replied evasively.
“I have not slept at all. Sir Geoffrey has asked me to see you first.” She hesitated for a moment, choosing her words slowly. “He has laid upon me a strange injunction.”
“Yes. For the first time in my life, Ben, I shall try to obey not the spirit but the letter of that injunction. Please sit down! How tired you look!”
He sat down facing her with his back to the great chimney-piece. As he did so, she glanced at the only family portrait in the room, a picture which hung above the mantelpiece, a full-length likeness of Sir Rupert Pomfret, the Squire’s father, taken in hunting-kit. It had been painted shortly before his death, when he was still a young man. Lady Pomfret turned her eyes upon Fishpingle as she sat down upon the sofa.
“It’s an extraordinary thing, Ben, but you have served the Pomfrets so long and faithfully that you have actually come to look like them.”
“Last night, my lady. I delivered Sir Geoffrey’s message. I would not hurt you or distress you for the world——”
“Master Lionel means to marry Miss Joyce.”
“Ah!” Their eyes met; she smiled faintly. “I seek his happiness.”
“The happiness you have always sought for others, my lady, is reflected on your face now.”
She said tranquilly: “And on yours, my old friend.”
She paused, still smiling at him. Then, holding up her head, she spoke the words which he desired to hear above all others:
The effect of them upon Fishpingle was startling and disconcerting. Colour flowed into his cheeks; his eyes sparkled; his voice broke with emotion.
“You—you say that. And I doubted. I dared to doubt. May God forgive me!”