“How lovely to see you again. I was talking of you at luncheon.”
“Shall we go and have tea?” said Mr. Atterton.
So the whole group went into the house, Elizabeth and Andy being the last to cross the wide terrace before the open French windows; but just as they were about to enter, Elizabeth paused, and said to her companion in a careless voice—
Her face was turned towards the house, and rather away from Andy, so that he could not see the colour deepening in the creamy bloom of her cheeks, or how her golden eyes shone with changing lights, or how the tendrils of hair which the sun caught became pure gold to crown this golden girl; but his heart knew that she was giving the woman’s eternal invitation, and it was very hard—so hard, that his own face became aged and sharpened—to answer as he did—
“Oh, it’s a big room. I don’t suppose we shall feel the heat much.”
For a moment Elizabeth felt as if some one had struck her a sudden blow, because what lay under those words was the unspoken “No,” which is the most bitter thing the heart of a woman can ever hear. The spoken “No” can never bring quite such bitterness, because the woman who could force that would not feel so shamed by the refusal.
Then she brought all her girl’s pride to her aid, and looked him, laughing, in the face.
“You did not suppose I wanted to stay outside, and go without my tea, did you?”
“N-no,” said Andy. The ages have not taught men to hide as they have taught women.
“I’m ravenous,” said Elizabeth, speaking more quickly than usual; then, with a bright colour in her cheeks and a fire in her eyes, she ran into the room where Dick Stamford was administering tea to the Misses Webster. He glanced at her, casually at first, and afterwards with roused attention.
“I say, Elizabeth,” he took occasion to whisper, “you do look stunning in that lilac gown. You make all the other women look—look tough.”
“Oh, well, I’m tough enough,” said poor Elizabeth ruefully. “Girls have got to be.” But the remark acted as a sort of safety-valve to her seething anger and shamed resentment, so that she was able to keep back her tears, and laugh and joke, with eyes only the more brilliant for them, amongst the group of young people who gathered round her.