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Then darkness seemed to fall like a canopy, beneath which the lights of the city trembled into view. A moment later he stood in Cardington's doorway, and looked with relief upon the sight presented to his eyes. The flickering fire in the grate, the bewildering congeries of books, statues, and furniture, were doubly homelike by contrast with Leigh's late vision of the descending night without.
Reassured by this reflection, she was about to enter, when the door on the other side of the hall opened, and she turned to see Cardington's tall figure against the light from within. "I was listening for your step, Miss Felicity," he said, "having observed your approach from my corner window, but you came as quietly as a snowflake. This is an unexpected honour.
Tomorrow he would join in the general hegira from the Hall. He walked back to the college, and seeing a light in Cardington's room, he knocked at the door. His friend was seated in the chair he never seemed to leave.
"When you sing that song you look like the love that gives all sweetness to men. Sing like that, look like that, and you If Sir Donald had heard you!" Lady Holme got up from the piano. "Sir Donald!" she said. She came to sit down near Lady Cardington. "Sir Donald! Why do you say that?" And she searched Lady Cardington's eyes with eyes full of inquiry. Lady Cardington looked away.
"And yet," she added, after a pause, "you can sing till you break the heart of age break its heart." Suddenly she burst into a flood of tears. Lady Holme was so surprised that she did absolutely nothing, did not attempt to console, to inquire. She sat and looked at Lady Cardington's tall figure swayed by grief, listened to the sound of her hoarse, gasping sobs.
I have been compelled to accept on faith the reward that Scripture promises to such as myself, for it has not yet materialized to any appreciable extent." "There 's more truth than poetry in that," she answered, laughing. "Poor Mr. Cardington's olive branch has proved a boomerang to himself, I fear."
He recognized now the reason of Cardington's inability to describe her, for a categorical account of her features, or of what is commonly called her "good points," would have left the essential quality untouched. Yet this quality was the woman herself, and had fired Leigh's blood with a fever of longing that made him reckless of his judgment.
Bry's sardonic and always cold gratification, Lady Cardington's surprised, half-tragic wonder she was oscillating between two courses, one a course of reserve, of stern self-control and abnegation, the other a course of defiance, of reckless indulgence of the strong temper that dwelt within her, and that occasionally showed itself for a moment, as it had on the evening of Miss Filberte's fiasco.
When a woman's once over fifty it really doesn't matter much whether she's fifty-one or seventy-one. Does it?" Lady Holme thought for a moment. Then she said: "I really don't know. You see, I'm not a man." Lady Cardington's forehead puckered and her mouth drooped piteously. "A woman's real life is very short," she said. "But her desire for real life can last very long her silly, useless desire."
"I'm dreadfully afraid I'm a man's woman. Do you think I am?" He could not help smiling as he looked into her solemn eyes. "I do indeed. Why should you be upset about it?" "I don't know. Lady Cardington's been saying things and I met a rather abominable little person at lunch, a little person like a baby that's been about a great deal in a former state, and altogether Let's have tea."
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