"If that be so, we must make the most of your last few days," he answered gracefully. "I got the postman to telegraph for a motor this morning, and I propose to take you and my mother out for an airing this afternoon. She has been shut up indoors for some weeks, Ninian tells me, and it always makes her a bit capricious. Make allowances for her, Miss Innes. She has had some bad times."
"Oh, I know. I am so sorry to think how much I have added to her vexations, although most unintentionally."
He drew up a chair close to hers after this, and began to talk. By insensible degrees they slipped away from all sore subjects, and found themselves conversing on current topics, and comparing their taste in fiction and the drama. Wolf was like a whiff of civilisation in the savage solitude.
Neither Madam nor Ninian appeared until dinner-time, when the lady entered; but Sunia, with a very reproachful glance at Olwen, said the sahib had gone to Lachanrigg and would not be back until tea-time.
They had a charming drive, for it was the end of February, the sun did not set until half-past five, and the clouds had all rolled away, leaving the most brilliant sky that Olwen remembered to have seen since her arrival. The setting of the scarlet sun in purple mist was a thing to remember.
Owing to Wolf’s thoughtfulness, tea had been ordered downstairs, to spare Olwen any unnecessary exercise. After tea Madam went to her own sitting-room to lie down; and after a while Wolf also sauntered off, leaving Olwen alone by the fire. Ninian had not come in, and her whole mind was racked with speculation as to the why and wherefore of his mysterious behaviour.
All the afternoon the words had rung in her head. Could he really have thought that she meant to catch him? The mere idea made her writhe. Anyway, she had spoken out at last. He knew that she was not the Lily Martin brand.
"I am glad," she reflected. "I wonder if I realise how glad I am about father. Even if he is very trying, even if he still runs into debt, even if people look down their noses at him, still he is somebody to belong to. I shall not stand alone as I have stood, with everyone saying, ’Poor child! She must earn her own living, for she has nobody to do it for her!’ Aunt Ethel won’t speculate as to whether a really eligible young man would overlook my having been a clerk in a bank. Fred Holroyd will no longer feel moved by compassion to protect me. Dr. Balmayne will no longer debate within himself as to the degree to which he may push remonstrance!"
