"
It was Mary he suspected of overdoing it. On Ally's account, of
course. It wasn't likely that she would give the poor child away.
At that point Mrs. Gale came in with the tea-things. And presently the
Vicar came down to tea.
He was more than courteous this time. He was affable. He too greeted
Rowcliffe as if nothing had happened, and he abstained from any
reference to Gwenda.
But he showed a certain serenity in his restraint. Leaning back in
his armchair, his legs crossed, his hands joined lightly at the
finger-tips, his forehead smoothed, conversing affably, Mr. Cartaret
had the air of a man who might indeed have suffered through his
outrageous family, but for whom suffering was passed, a man without
any trouble or anxiety. And serenity without the memory of suffering
was in Mary's good and happy face.
The house was very still, it seemed the stillness of life that ran
evenly and with no sound. And it was borne in upon Rowcliffe as he sat
there and talked to them that this quiet and tranquillity had come
to them with Gwenda's going. She was a restless creature, and she had
infected them with her unrest. They had peace from her now.
Only for him there could be no peace from Gwenda. He could feel her in
the room. Through the open door she came and went--restless, restless!
He put the thought of her from him.
* * * * *
After tea the Vicar took him into his study.
Pages:
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219