Phyllis of Philistia [64]
away?"
Her husband had advanced to her as he spoke. He put a hand caressingly on one of her bare arms and the other at the back of her head. She suffered him to press her head forward until he put his lips upon her forehead.
When he had released her, and had taken a step back from her,--he seemed abut to address Phyllis,--a little cry forced itself from her. She called his name twice,--the second time louder,--and threw herself into his arms, burying her face on his shoulder, as she had buried it on Phyllis' shoulder.
In a few moments, however, she looked up. Her husband was patting her on the arm. She had acquired two new gems since she had bent her head. They were shining in her eyes.
"Don't go away, Phyllis dear," she said. Phyllis and her father were standing at the /portiere/ between the drawing rooms. Mr. Ayrton had a hand at the embroidered edge in the act of raising it. "Don't go away. I am all right now. I was quite dazed at Stephen's sudden appearance. I thought that perhaps he had--had---- Ah, I scarcely know what I thought. How did you come here--why did you come here?"
She had turned to her husband. In spite of her manifestation of affection,--the result of a certain relief which she experienced at that moment,--there was a note of something akin to indignation in her voice.
"It is very simple, my dear," replied her husband. His curiously sallow face had resumed its usual expressionless appearance. "Nothing could be more simple. I got a telegram at Paris regarding the mine, and I had to start at a moment's notice. I wrote out a telegram to send to you, and that idiotic courier put it into the pocket of my overcoat instead of sending it. I found it in my pocket when we had come as far as Canterbury. I am not one of those foolish husbands who keep these pleasant surprises for their wives--it is usually the husband who receives the surprise in such cases."
"And the coachman told you that he had driven me here?" said Ella.
"Quite so," replied the husband. "But, you see, I had some little hesitation in coming here at half-past ten o'clock to make inquiries about my wife--you might have gone to some place else, you know, in which case I should have looked a trifle foolish; so I though that, on the whole, my best plan would be to drop in upon Mr. Ayrton at the House of Commons and drive here with him when he was coming home for the night. I took it for granted that even so earnest a legislator as Mr. Ayrton allows himself his nights--after twelve, of course--at home. I'm very sorry I startled you, Ella. It shall not occur again."
"What time did you reach home?" inquired Ella casually--so casually that her husband, who had a very discriminating ear, gave a little glance in her direction. She was disengaging a corner of her lace trimming that had become entangled with a large sapphire in a pendant.
"I reached home at nine," he replied.
"At nine?" She spoke the words after him in a little gasp. Then she said, walking across the room to a sofa, "I could not have left many minutes before you arrived. I intended going to the opera."
"That toilet should not have been wasted," said he. "It is exquisite-- /ravissante/!"
"It was an inspiration, your putting it on," said Phyllis. "I wonder if she really had no subtle suggestion from her own heart that you were on your way to her, Mr. Linton," she added, turning to the husband.
"I dare say it was some inward prompting of that mysterious nature, Miss Ayrton," he replied. "A woman's heart is barometric in its nature, it is not? Its sensitiveness is so great that it moves responsive to a suggestion of what is to come. Is a woman's heart prophetic, I wonder?"
"It would be a rank heresy to doubt it, after the example we have had to-night," said Mr. Ayrton. "Yes, a woman's heart is a barometer suggesting what is coming to her, and her toilet is a thermometer indicating the degree of expectancy."
"A charming phrase," said Mr. Linton; "a charming principle, only one that demands some years of close study to be rendered practical. For instance,
Her husband had advanced to her as he spoke. He put a hand caressingly on one of her bare arms and the other at the back of her head. She suffered him to press her head forward until he put his lips upon her forehead.
When he had released her, and had taken a step back from her,--he seemed abut to address Phyllis,--a little cry forced itself from her. She called his name twice,--the second time louder,--and threw herself into his arms, burying her face on his shoulder, as she had buried it on Phyllis' shoulder.
In a few moments, however, she looked up. Her husband was patting her on the arm. She had acquired two new gems since she had bent her head. They were shining in her eyes.
"Don't go away, Phyllis dear," she said. Phyllis and her father were standing at the /portiere/ between the drawing rooms. Mr. Ayrton had a hand at the embroidered edge in the act of raising it. "Don't go away. I am all right now. I was quite dazed at Stephen's sudden appearance. I thought that perhaps he had--had---- Ah, I scarcely know what I thought. How did you come here--why did you come here?"
She had turned to her husband. In spite of her manifestation of affection,--the result of a certain relief which she experienced at that moment,--there was a note of something akin to indignation in her voice.
"It is very simple, my dear," replied her husband. His curiously sallow face had resumed its usual expressionless appearance. "Nothing could be more simple. I got a telegram at Paris regarding the mine, and I had to start at a moment's notice. I wrote out a telegram to send to you, and that idiotic courier put it into the pocket of my overcoat instead of sending it. I found it in my pocket when we had come as far as Canterbury. I am not one of those foolish husbands who keep these pleasant surprises for their wives--it is usually the husband who receives the surprise in such cases."
"And the coachman told you that he had driven me here?" said Ella.
"Quite so," replied the husband. "But, you see, I had some little hesitation in coming here at half-past ten o'clock to make inquiries about my wife--you might have gone to some place else, you know, in which case I should have looked a trifle foolish; so I though that, on the whole, my best plan would be to drop in upon Mr. Ayrton at the House of Commons and drive here with him when he was coming home for the night. I took it for granted that even so earnest a legislator as Mr. Ayrton allows himself his nights--after twelve, of course--at home. I'm very sorry I startled you, Ella. It shall not occur again."
"What time did you reach home?" inquired Ella casually--so casually that her husband, who had a very discriminating ear, gave a little glance in her direction. She was disengaging a corner of her lace trimming that had become entangled with a large sapphire in a pendant.
"I reached home at nine," he replied.
"At nine?" She spoke the words after him in a little gasp. Then she said, walking across the room to a sofa, "I could not have left many minutes before you arrived. I intended going to the opera."
"That toilet should not have been wasted," said he. "It is exquisite-- /ravissante/!"
"It was an inspiration, your putting it on," said Phyllis. "I wonder if she really had no subtle suggestion from her own heart that you were on your way to her, Mr. Linton," she added, turning to the husband.
"I dare say it was some inward prompting of that mysterious nature, Miss Ayrton," he replied. "A woman's heart is barometric in its nature, it is not? Its sensitiveness is so great that it moves responsive to a suggestion of what is to come. Is a woman's heart prophetic, I wonder?"
"It would be a rank heresy to doubt it, after the example we have had to-night," said Mr. Ayrton. "Yes, a woman's heart is a barometer suggesting what is coming to her, and her toilet is a thermometer indicating the degree of expectancy."
"A charming phrase," said Mr. Linton; "a charming principle, only one that demands some years of close study to be rendered practical. For instance,