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Updated: May 7, 2025
She laid the picture book on her lap and the senna like fragments of leaves on its open page. "Donal brought it to show me," she quavered. "He made pretty things on the leaves with his dirk." She recalled too much too much all at once. Her eyes grew rounder and larger with inescapable woe; "Donal did! Donal!" And suddenly she hid her face deep in Dowson's skirts and the tempest broke.
"A long time ago," said Mademoiselle. Dowson's reply was quite free from tragic reminiscence. "Well, I must say, I like a respectable Royal Family myself," she observed. "There's something solid and comfortable about it besides the coronations and weddings and procession with all the pictures in the Illustrated London News. Give me a nice, well-behaved Royal Family."
In her face was so patent a misery that for a moment Dowson's heart failed him and he stood staring at her with a sudden horrible conviction that in luring her from her home and husband he was doing a wicked and heartless action. In that illuminating moment he could almost have found the strength to give her up, to undo, as far as he might, this thing which he had done.
"He was a big boy," she answered keeping her eyes on Dowson's face. "He laughed and ran and jumped. His eyes " she stopped there because she could not explain what she had wanted to say about these joyous young eyes, which were the first friendly human ones she had known. "He lives in Scotland," she began again. "His mother loved him. He kissed me. He went away. Lord Coombe sent him."
And then, so did Robin. She dropped Dowson's wrists and threw her arms around her waist, clinging to it in piteous repentance. "No, I won't!" she cried out. "I oughtn't to try to make you tell me. You can't. I'm wicked to you. Poor Dowie darling Dowie! I want to KISS you, Dowie! Let me let me!"
But there are other kinds of non-illuminating gases such as Wilson's, Strong's, and Dowson's which are now coming into use; and at Messrs.
Dowson was heard in the tiny passage. If anything it seemed heavier than usual, and Mr. Dowson's manner when he entered the room and greeted his guests was singularly lacking in its usual cheerfulness. He drew a chair to the fire, and putting his feet on the fender gazed moodily between the bars.
But Toni, who always meant exactly what she said, and unconsciously expected the same sincerity of speech from others, had taken Owen literally; and although for a moment a flood of human weakness had overtaken her as she gazed at Leonard Dowson's firm signature, she never really faltered in her purpose.
Leonard Dowson's appearance, following so closely on Eva Herrick's suggestions, had given her a queer, eerie sensation of awe, as though some inexorable fate were pointing out to her a way of escape from the situation she was beginning to find intolerable. She never doubted the man's affection for her; and she fully believed that he would indeed die in her service.
Much to Antonia's relief the party rose from the table a moment later; and with a stern determination in her mind not to allow Mr. Dowson another opportunity to make the avowal which she knew very well trembled on his lips, Toni bustled gaily about, helping to clear the table and make things ready for the evening's festivity. Mr. Dowson's pale eyes followed her about rather wistfully.
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