As she suspected,
she went down with Owen. He did not tell her where he had been since
she last saw him; intimate conversation was impossible amid a
glitter of silver dishes and anecdotes of people they knew; but
after dinner in a quiet corner she would hear his story. And as soon
as the men came up from the dining-room Owen went straight towards
her, and she followed him out of hearing of the card-players.
"At last we are alone. My gracious! how I've looked forward to this
little talk with you, all through that long dinner, and the formal
talk with the men afterwards, listening to infernal politics and
still more infernal hunting. You didn't expect to meet me, did you?"
"No; Lady Ascott said nothing about your being here when she came to
the concert."
"And perhaps you wouldn't have come if you had known I was here?"
"Is that why you didn't come to the concert?"
"Well, Evelyn, I suppose it was. You'll forgive me the trickery,
won't you?" She took his hand and held it for a moment. "That touch
of your hand means more to me than anything in the world." A cloud
came into her face which he saw and it pained him to see it. "Lady
Ascott wrote saying she intended to ask you to Thornton Grange, so I
wrote at once asking her if she could put me up; she guessed an
estrangement, and being a kind woman, was anxious to put it right.
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