Ch. 2: The Waiting Supper - Page 2

said that she was quite conscious
of his presence outside. Impatience caused her foot to beat silently on
the carpet, and she more than once rose to leave the table. This
proceeding was checked by her father, who would put his hand upon her
shoulder and unceremoniously press her down into her chair, till he
should have concluded his observations. Her replies were brief enough,
and there was factitiousness in her smiles of assent to his views. A
small iron casement between two of the mullions was open, and some
occasional words of the dialogue were audible without.

'As for drains--how can I put in drains? The pipes don't cost much,
that's true; but the labour in sinking the trenches is ruination. And
then the gates--they should be hung to stone posts, otherwise there's no
keeping them up through harvest.' The Squire's voice was strongly toned
with the local accent, so that he said 'drains' and 'geats' like the
rustics on his estate.

The landscape without grew darker, and the young man's figure seemed to
be absorbed into the trunk of the tree. The small stars filled in
between the larger, the nebulae between the small stars, the trees quite
lost their voice; and if there was still a sound, it was from the cascade
of a stream which stretched along under the trees that bounded the lawn
on its northern side.

At last the young girl did get to her feet and secure her retreat. 'I
have something to do, papa,' she said. 'I shall not be in the drawing-
room just yet.'

'Very well,' replied he. 'Then I won't hurry.' And closing the door
behind her, he drew his decanters together and settled down in his chair.

Three minutes after that a woman's shape emerged from the drawing-room
window, and passing through a wall-door to the entrance front, came
across the grass. She kept well clear of the dining-room window, but
enough of its light fell on her to show, escaping from the dark-hooded
cloak that she wore, stray verges of the same light dress which had
figured but recently at the dinner-table. The hood was contracted tight
about her face with a drawing-string, making her countenance small and
baby-like, and lovelier even than before.

Without hesitation she brushed across the grass to the tree under which
the young man stood concealed. The moment she had reached him he
enclosed her form with his arm. The meeting and embrace, though by no
means formal, were yet not passionate; the whole proceeding was that of
persons who had repeated the act so often as to be unconscious of its
performance. She turned within his arm, and faced in the same direction
with himself, which was towards the window; and thus they stood without
speaking, the back of her head leaning against his shoulder. For a while