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It was odd what a sharp little stab at the heart it gave him to see Rose looking so like herself so like the girl he had hoped in time to make his wife. And yet so different too so much softer, sweeter, and with a new radiance in her face. He asked sharply, "By the way, where's your husband?" "He's with the Robeys. I preferred to come here alone." She followed him into the dining-room.
It seemed hopeless to keep the affair a secret. For one thing, the officials at the Post Office knew they had almost shown it by their funny, smiling manner when Rose had gone in to send her answer to Lady Blake's telegram. But the first to be informed officially, so to speak, must of course be the Dean and the Robeys. Dr. Haworth had aged sadly during the last few weeks.
She almost always stayed and had supper with the Robeys, then she would rush home for the night, and after an early breakfast during which, to Anna's thinking, she did not eat nearly enough be off again to spend with her bridegroom whatever time she was not devoting to war work under Miss Forsyth. Anna had been curious to know how soon Mr.
Robey are so pleased. The whole family went to the station with him this morning!" And it was quite true that the Robeys were pleased. Mr. Robey was positively triumphant. "I can't tell you how glad I am!" he said, first to one, and then to the other, of his neighbours. "Young Blake will make a splendid company officer.
Everything is different now." For the first time she felt that everything was indeed different in England in this new strange England which was at war. It was odd that Jervis Blake should have brought that knowledge home to her. "Very well," he said slowly. "I'll wait. I can't wait a whole week, but I'll wait till after Sunday." "The Robeys are going to the seaside on Monday, aren't they?"
It presaged a note brought by one of the young Robeys for Mrs. Otway a note written by Jervis Blake, telling her of his good fortune, and explaining that he had not time to come and thank her in person for all her many kindnesses to him. One sentence ran: "The War Office order is that I come and report myself as soon as possible so of course I had to take the ten-twenty-five train."
But if the Dean's congratulations were saddened by his own melancholy situation, those of the Robeys were clear and sunshiny. They knew Jervis Blake, and they regarded Rose as a very lucky girl. They also knew Rose, and they regarded Jervis Blake as a very lucky man. True, Mrs.
How surprised her critics would have been had an angel, or some equally credible witness informed them that of all the women of their acquaintance there was no one whose life had been more altered or affected by the War than Mary Otway's! She was too unhappy to care much what those about her thought of her. Even so, it did hurt her when she came, slowly, to realise that the Robeys and Mrs.
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