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All the kindness and sympathy of my life have been for women. And I can lay my hand on my heart and declare that I never yet wronged one of them in thought or deed. The man who is cruel to women is no man." "And yet your friend Reginald Henson is that sort." Rawlins smiled again. He began to understand a little of what was passing in Chris's mind.
The heavy curtains obstructed her gaze, and she had put up her hand to push them aside, when her father's voice reached her, and at his words her outstretched arm fell slowly to her side. "It's that girl of Jerry Pollard's," he was saying. "She's gotten into trouble, and that Burr boy's mixed up in it; the young rascal!" Miss Chris's placid voice floated in.
At any rate, if you should find that any arrangement you make does not act perfectly well, I should advise you to join Captain Brookfield's troop and act with him." The general opinion was strongly in favour of Chris's suggestion. It was agreed that at any rate the first leader should be chosen by chance. Carmichael's name came first out of the hat.
It was almost an hour later that she went cautiously downstairs. He was gone had been gone since half-past six o'clock, Joseph reported. Norma went in to dinner with Mrs. Melrose, and they talked cheerfully of Chris's return, of Leslie and Annie. By eight o'clock, reading in Mrs.
Morris came up with an eager respectfulness at Chris's sign, keeping a yard or two away lest the swinging luggage on his own horse should discompose the master, and answered a formal question or two about the roads and the bags, which Chris put to him as a gambit of conversation.
"My dear Trevor, do let me warn you against making yourself in any way responsible for Chris's brothers." Mrs. Forest spoke impressively. She was rather fond of warning people. It was in a fashion her attitude towards life. "You will find," she continued, "that Chris herself will need a firm hand a very firm hand. Though so young, she is not, I fear, very pliable.
"There will never be anybody else!" she said. "How could there be? You are the only person like yourself! that I have ever known!" The simplicity of her words, almost their childishness, made Chris's eyes smart. He bit his lips, trying to smile. "It's too bad, isn't it?" he said, whimsically. Norma flung back her head, swallowing tears. She gathered gloves and hand-bag, got to her feet.
When Chris's turn came he threw back his habit petulantly, and administered his own punishment as the custom was, with angry fervour. As he was going out the Prior made him a sign, and took him through into his own cell. "Counter-accusations are contrary to the Rule," he said. "It must not happen again," and dismissed him sternly.
"Indeed!" said Mordaunt again. His manner was so non-committal that Aunt Philippa began to lose her patience. "I should have thought that fact was patent to everyone." "Never to me," said Chris's husband very deliberately. Aunt Philippa smiled. "Then you are remarkably blind, my dear Trevor. Flightiness has been her chief characteristic all her life.
You've got to look on ahead and keep moving. It's the only possible way. If you don't, you get buried in every sand-storm." Chris reached up her arms and clasped him very tightly. "Max, tell me Love doesn't die!" "It doesn't," said Max stoutly. "You are sure? You are sure?" "Yes, I am sure." "How do you know? Tell me tell me!" Chris's voice was piteous. Yet for a moment he was silent.
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