he
takes no interest in me. I did the same exercises four times over and
she never knew, and when I told mother she said, `Poor darling!' I
thought she meant me, but she meant Rowena. Well, if you grow up, you
grow up, but you needn't be silly!"
Three afternoons after Dreda's return home a sharp rat-tat sounded at
the door, and Maud, flattening her nose against the window, made one of
her characteristic announcements.
"Mr Seton's horse. He's got on his new breeches!"
Dreda gave a glad exclamation.
"Mr Seton! Already! The dear thing! How did he know I was home?"
There was a short, tense pause, while Mrs Saxon and Rowena kept their
eyes glued to the ground. A sensitive hearer would have felt that pause
significant, but Dreda was too self-engrossed to be sensitive; she never
doubted that Guy Seton's object in calling was to welcome herself on her
return from school, and her first words informed him of the fact.
"Oh, Mr Seton, it _is_ nice of you to come so soon! Have you got the
horse yet? It's lovely of you to remember your promise."
"My--my--_what_ horse? What promise?"
"The horse for me--my mount! You said you would take me out riding--"
"Oh--er--yes! Did I? Delighted, I'm sure!" stammered Guy Seton
awkwardly. He looked bigger and stronger and handsomer than ever, but
even Dreda could not delude herself that he looked "delighted" at that
moment. There had been an expression of blankest surprise upon his face
as she had stepped forward to greet him, as if he had been unprepared
for her presence, and he had flushed uncomfortably at being reminded of
his promise. Dreda stood looking on somewhat blankly while he greeted
the other occupants of the room--Mrs Saxon with punctilious politeness,
Maud with a smile and a jest, Rowena in silence with a short grip of the
hand. Why did he not speak to Rowena? Were they still at cross
purposes as on the occasion of their first meeting? Dreda watched with
curious eyes and felt confirmed in her suspicion, for Rowena stitched
steadily at her embroidery, and Guy Seton never turned as much as a
glance in her direction. It was true that on one occasion when she
required her scissors he had pounced upon them as they lay on the table,
and handed them to her before she had had time to reach them herself;
but instead of forming the beginning of a conversation, as such an
action should naturally have done, they both appeared overcome with
embarrassment, an
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