Chapter 22 - Page 2

And it was Miss Robin she was going to--her own Miss Robin who had never
known a child of her own age or had a girl friend--who had been cut off
from innocent youth and youth's happiness and intimacies.

"It's been one of those poor mad young war weddings," she kept saying to
herself, "though no one will believe her. If she hadn't been so ignorant
of life and so lonely! But just as she fell down worshipping that dear
little chap in the Gardens because he was the first she'd ever
seen--it's only nature that the first beautiful young thing her own age
that looked at her with love rising up in him should set it rising in
her--where God had surely put it if ever He put love as part of life in
any girl creature His hand made. But Oh! I can _see_ no one will
believe her! The world's heart's so wicked. I know, poor lamb. Her Dowie
knows. And her left like this!"

It was when her thoughts reached this point that the tear would gather
in the corner of her eye and would have trickled down her cheek if she
had not turned away towards the window.

But above all things she told herself she must present only Dowie's face
when she reached Eaton Square. There were the servants who knew nothing
and must know nothing but that Mrs. Dowson had come to take care of poor
Miss Lawless who had worked too hard and was looking ill and was to be
sent into the country to some retreat her grace had chosen because it
was far enough away to allow of her being cut off from war news and
work, if her attendants were faithful and firm. Every one knew Mrs.
Dowson would be firm and faithful. Then there were the ladies who went
in and out of the house in these days. If they saw her by any chance
they might ask kind interested questions about the pretty creature they
had liked. They might inquire as to symptoms, they might ask where she
was to be taken to be nursed. Dowie knew that after she had seen Robin
herself she could provide suitable symptoms and she knew, as she knew
how to breathe and walk, exactly the respectful voice and manner in
which she could make her replies and how natural she could cause it to
appear that she had not yet been told their destination--her grace being
still undecided. Dowie's decent intelligence knew the methods of her
class and their value when perfectly applied. A nurse or a young lady's
maid knew only what she was told and did not ask questions.

But what she thought of most anxiously was Robin herself. His lordship
had given her no instructions. Part of his seeming to understand her was
that he had seemed to be sure that she would know what to say and what
to leave unsaid. She was glad of that because it left her free to think
the thing over and make her own quiet plans. She