The answer came at once, in the deep, resonant, once familiar voice--the voice no one had heard in Old Place for nine years--nine years with the war having happened in between. "Indeed no, Janet! I've only been back a very short time." (She noticed he did not say how long.) "And I want to know when I may come down and see you all? I hope you and Mr. Tosswill will believe me when I say it wasn't my fault that I didn't come to Beechfield last year. I hadn't a spare moment!" The tone of the unseen speaker had become awkward, apologetic, and the listener bit her lips--she did not believe in his explanation as to why he had behaved with such a lack of gratitude and good feeling last autumn. "We shall be very glad to see you at any time, of course. When can we expect you?" But the welcoming words were uttered very coldly. "It's Tuesday to-day; I was thinking of motoring down on Friday or Saturday. I've got a lot of business to do before then. Will that be all right?" "Of course it will. Come Friday." She was thawing a little, and perhaps he felt this, for there came an eager, yearning note into the full, deep voice which sounded so oddly near, and which, for the moment, obliterated the long years since she had heard it last. "How's my godson? Flick still in the land of the living, eh?" "Thank heaven, yes! That dog's the one thing in the world Timmy cares for, I sometimes think." He felt that she was smiling now. She heard the question:--"Another three minutes, sir?" and the hasty answer:--"Yes, another three minutes," and then, "Still there, Janet?" "Of course I am. We'll expect you on Friday, Godfrey, by tea-time, and I hope you'll stay as long as you can. You won't mind having your old room?" "Rather not!" and then in a hesitating, shamefaced voice:--"I needn't tell _you_ that to me Old Place _is_ home." It was in a very kindly voice that she answered: "I'm glad you still feel like that, Godfrey." "Of course I do, and of course I am ashamed of not having written more often. I often think
Prev.
Back
Top