"Fighting again, are they? Poor old dears, it really is quite dreadful.
You see, grandfather used to be a fearful tyrant, though he is so
little, and grandmother was deathly afraid of him until his health began
to fail. So now she is getting even with him. They adore each other,
however. Isn't the house quaint? Have you seen the garden?"
She shook her head. "No, show it to me."
Leaving the room they crossed to the oilclothed passage and went into
the dining-room, a small apartment enlivened by an oleograph of Leo
XIII., and some gay chromos.
The windows opened to the ground, and opening one the young people went
out into the moonlight. Brigit was feeling very happy, and therefore
very kind. When Theo put his arm round her and drew her to him she did
not protest.
"Brigitte," he whispered, "I do so love you."
"Dear Theo----" Suddenly she remembered that other moonlight night, nearly
a year before, when she had accepted him. She recalled the look of the
beautiful old house, the sound of Tommy at the pianola, the splashing of
the fountain, the sun-dial at which, in his boyish grief, he had knelt.
And she had accepted his love, not because she loved him but because she
hated her home and because, besides being sufficiently rich to satisfy
her needs, he was nice and straight and kind.
Pages:
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279