"Yes; but what it comes to then, Roger, is that we shall lose Barney," Nancy said.
Miss Toner did not come down to breakfast next morning and Oldmeadow was conscious of a feeling of disproportionate relief at not finding her in the big, bare, panelled dining-room where a portrait of Mrs. Chadwick in court dress presided over one wall and Meg and Barney played with rabbits, against an imitation Gainsborough background, on another. Both pictures were an affliction to Barney; but to Mrs. Chadwick's eye they left nothing to be desired in beauty, and, when Barney was not there to protest, she would still fondly point out the length of eyelash that the artist had so faithfully captured in the two children.
The sense of change and foreboding that he and Nancy, with differences, had recognized in their talk, must have haunted Oldmeadow's slumbers, for he had dreamed of Miss Toner, coming towards him along the terrace, in white, as she had been at dinner, with the beautiful pearls she had worn, lifting her hand and saying as the rooks cawed overhead--for the rooks cawed though the moon was brightly shining: "I can hear them, too."
There had been nothing to suggest such a dream in her demeanour at dinner; nothing portentous, that is. Simple for all her competence, girlish for all the splendour of her white array, she had spoken little, looking at them all, and listening, gravely sometimes, but with a pervading gentleness; and once or twice he had found her eyes on his; those large, light eyes, dispassionately and impersonally benignant, giving him, with their suggestion of seeing around but also very far beyond you, a curious sense of space. Once or twice he had felt himself a little at a loss as he met their gaze--it had endeared her to him the less that she should almost discompose him--and he had felt anew the presence of power in her ugly little face and even of beauty in her colourless skin, her colourless yet so living eyes, and her crown of wondrous gold. It had been, no doubt, this element of aesthetic significance, merging with Nancy's words, that had built up the figure of his dream; for so he had seen her, grey and white and gold in the unearthly light, while the rooks cawed overhead.