We have hundreds more books for your enjoyment. Read them all!
|
|
This made her hesitate two days more, but she found answers more
valid than any objections. The many-voiced answer to everything--it
was like the autumn wind round the house--was the affront that fell
back on her mother. Her mother was dead but it killed her again. So
one morning at eleven o'clock, when she knew her father was writing
letters, she went out quietly and, stopping the first hansom she met,
drove to Prince's Gate. Mrs. Churchley was at home, and she was
shown into the drawing-room with the request that she would wait five
minutes. She waited without the sense of breaking down at the last,
and the impulse to run away, which were what she had expected to
have. In the cab and at the door her heart had beat terribly, but
now suddenly, with the game really to play, she found herself lucid
and calm. It was a joy to her to feel later that this was the way
Mrs. Churchley found her: not confused, not stammering nor
prevaricating, only a little amazed at her own courage, conscious of
the immense responsibility of her step and wonderfully older than her
years. Her hostess sounded her at first with suspicious eyes, but
eventually, to Adela's surprise, burst into tears. At this the girl
herself cried, and with the secret happiness of believing they were
saved. Mrs. Churchley said she would think over what she had been
told, and she promised her young friend, freely enough and very
firmly, not to betray the secret of the latter's step to the Colonel.
They were saved--they were saved: the words sung themselves in the
girl's soul as she came downstairs. When the door opened for her she
saw her brother on the step, and they looked at each other in
surprise, each finding it on the part of the other an odd hour for
Prince's Gate. Godfrey remarked that Mrs. Churchley would have
enough of the family, and Adela answered that she would perhaps have
too much. None the less the young man went in while his sister took
her way home.
|