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Truxton departed, but returned immediately after luncheon, vaguely inclined to decide between two desirable rings. After a protracted period of indecision, in which Olga remained stubbornly out of sight, he announced that he could not make up his mind, and would return later for another inspection. At his room in the hotel, he found a note addressed to himself.
Indeed the moment she got over the shock of seeing them so intimate with Olga, she could not have been surpassed in cordiality. "We see but little of our old friends now," she said to Olga and Jane jointly, "but we must excuse their desire for solitude in their first glow of their happiness. Peppino and I remember that sweet time, oh, ever so long ago."
Redlands had always been a bower of delight to Olga's vivid fancy. The house, long, low, and rambling, stood well back from the cliffs in the midst of a garden which to her childhood's mind had always been the earthly presentment of Paradise. Not the owner of it himself loved it as did Olga. Many were the hours she had spent there, and not one of them but held a treasured place in her memory.
Miss Ratcliffe and I understand one another. In fact, we've been more or less engaged for a long time, though it isn't generally known." "Max!" Olga started back as if from a blow. "He never said that!" "Yes, he did. I guessed it was a lie," said Max, "in spite of appearances." She winced. "It is a lie!" she said with vehemence. "You you told him so?"
"Really, Olga, if you're quite determined to do my packing, I think I will run down and entertain him." "You needn't trouble to do that. He is with your brother." Olga proceeded deftly with her task as she spoke. "We found him in the hall as we came in." "Bruce back already! How tiresome of him! I meant to have just left a message, and now we shall have a wordy argument instead."
In the glow of the fir e Olga, breathless, looking with horror at the red sheep and the pink doves flying in the smoke, kept running down the hill and up again.
It contained the news that Mrs. Hannaford had died before daybreak. Dr. Derwent himself did not appear till about ten o'clock, when he arrived together with his niece. Olga had been violently hysterical; it seemed the wisest thing to bring her to Bryanston Square; the change of surroundings and Irene's sympathy soon restored her to calm.
It was not the Olga Tcherny that people knew best the gay, satirical mondaine, who exacted from a world which had denied her happiness her pound of flesh and called it pleasure.
So we stayed there, thinking ourselves safe. But in the morning " He paused. Mrs. Hammond had risen and was fingering the flowers on the tea table. "In the morning," she finished dryly, "Olga Tcherny found you there. I understand." He rose and faced her uncomprehendingly. "Mrs. Hammond, do you mean that you believe as she did?"
It was evident from his beaming, blissful face that if Olga Ivanovna had shared with him his joy and triumph he would have forgiven her everything, both the present and the future, and would have forgotten everything, but she did not understand what was meant by a "readership" or by "general pathology"; besides, she was afraid of being late for the theatre, and she said nothing.
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