Herbert Courtland had found his way to her drawing room on the afternoon of his return to London; and it was upon this circumstance rather than upon her own unusual behavior in the presence of George Holland that Phyllis was dwelling so soon as she had recovered from her tearful outburst on her bed. (She had, of course, run into her bedroom and thrown herself upon the bed the moment that she had left the presence of the man whom she had once promised to marry.) She had wept in the sheer excitement of the scene in which she had played the part of leading lady; it had been a very exciting scene, and it had overwhelmed her; she had not accustomed herself to the use of such vehement language as she had found necessary to employ in order to adequately deal with Mr. Holland and that was how it came about that she was overwhelmed.
But so soon as she had partially recovered from her excitement, and had dried her eyes, she began to think of the visit which had been paid to her, not by George Holland, but by Herbert Courtland. She dwelt, moreover, less upon his amusing account of the cruise of the /Water Nymph/ than upon the words which he had said to her in regard to his last visit. She had expressed her surprise at seeing him. Had he not gone on a yachting cruise to Norway? Surely five days was under rather than over the space of time necessary to thoroughly enjoy the fine scenery of the fjords.
He had then laughed and said that he had received a letter at Leith making his immediate return absolutely necessary.
"How disappointed you must have felt!" she suggested, with something like a smile upon her face.
His smile was broader as he said:
"Well, I'm not so sure that my disappointment was such as would tend to make me take a gloomy view of life for an indefinite time. Lord Earlscourt is a very good sort of fellow; but----"
"Yes; I quite agree with you," said she, still smiling. "Knowing what follows that 'but' in everyone's mind, we all thought it rather strange on your part to start on that cruise. And so suddenly you seemed to make up your mind, too. You never hinted to me that afternoon that you were anxious to see Norway under the personal conductorship of Lord Earlscourt."
"It would have been impossible for me to give you such a hint," said he. "I had no idea myself that I wanted greatly to go to Norway, until I met Earlscourt."
"So we gathered from what papa told us when he came in about midnight, bringing Mr. Linton with him," said Phyllis. "Ella had come across to me before nine, to ask me to go with her to 'Romeo and Juliet' at Covent Garden, forgetting that I was dining with Lady Earlscourt."
"But you had not returned from the dinner party at nine," he suggested. She had certainly succeeded in arousing his interest, even in such ordinary details as those she was describing.
"Of course not; but Ella waited for me; I suppose she did not want to return to her lonely house. She seemed so glad when I came in that she made up her mind to stay with me all night."
"Oh! But she didn't stay with you?"
"Of course not, when her husband appeared. It was so funny--so startling."
"So funny--so startling! Yes, it must have been--funny."
"Ella was wearing such a lovely frock--covered with diamonds. I wish that you had seen her."
"Ah!"
"I never saw anything so lovely. I told her that it was a bridal toilet."
"A bridal toilet?"
"We thought it such a pity that it should be wasted. She didn't go to the opera, of course."
"And it was wasted--wasted?"
"Oh, no! When her husband came in with papa, about midnight, we laughed and said that her dressing herself in that way was an inspiration; that something told her that he was returning."
"Probably a telegram from Paris had told her; that was the source of her inspiration."
"Oh, no! what was so funny about the matter was that Mr. Linton's servant bungled sending the telegram, so that Ella knew nothing of his coming."
"Great Heavens!"
"You have not seen Ella since your return?"
"No; I have been with her husband on business all day, however."
"And of course he would not have occasion to refer to so casual an incident as his wife's wearing a new toilet."
"Of course not. The word inspiration has no place in a commercial vocabulary, Miss Ayrton."
"But it is a good word elsewhere, Mr. Courtland.
"Yes, it has its meaning. You think that it may be safely applied to the wearing of an effective toilet. I wonder if you would think of applying it to the words you said to me on the last evening I was here?"
It was in a very low tone, and after a long pause, that she said:
"I hope if what I told you Mrs. Haddon said was an inspiration, it was a good one. I felt that I must tell you, Mr. Courtland, though I fear that I gave you some pain--great pain. I know what it is to be reminded of an irreparable loss."
"Pain--pain?" said he. Then he raised his eyes to hers. "I wonder if you will ever know what effect your words had upon me, Miss Ayrton?" he added. "I don't suppose that you will ever know; but I tell you that it would be impossible for me ever to cease to think of you as my good angel."
She flushed slightly, very slightly, before saying:
"How odd that Ella should call me her good angel, too, on that same night!"
"And she spoke the truth, if ever truth was spoken," he cried.
Her face was very serious as she said:
"Of course I don't understand anything of this, Mr. Courtland."
"No," he said; "it would be impossible for you to understand anything of it. It would be impossible for you to understand how I feel toward you--how I have felt toward you since you spoke those words in this room; those words that came to me as the light from heaven came to Saul of Tarsus; words of salvation. Believe me, I shall never forget them."
"I am so glad," said she. "I am glad, though, as I say, I understand nothing."
Then there had been a long interval of silence before she had asked him something further regarding the yachting party.
