might make him a present; while Miss Merry, who took a subdued
and melancholy part in all family affairs, doubted whether it would not be
giving too much encouragement to that kind of character. Rex had never found the
family troublesome before, but just now he wished them all away and Gwendolen
there, and he was too uneasy for good-natured feigning. When at last he had
said, »Where is Gwendolen?« and Mrs. Davilow had told Alice to go and see if her
sister were come down, adding, »I sent up her breakfast this morning. She needed
a long rest,« - Rex took the shortest way out of his endurance by saying, almost
impatiently, »Aunt, I want to speak to Gwendolen - I want to see her alone.«
    »Very well, dear; go into the drawing-room. I will send her there,« said
Mrs. Davilow, who had observed that he was fond of being with Gwendolen, as was
natural, but had not thought of this as having any bearing on the realities of
life: it seemed merely part of the Christmas holidays which were spinning
themselves out.
    Rex for his part felt that the realities of life were all hanging on this
interview. He had to walk up and down the drawing-room in expectation for nearly
ten minutes - ample space for all imaginative fluctuations; yet, strange to say,
he was unvaryingly occupied in thinking what and how much he could do, when
Gwendolen had accepted him, to satisfy his father that the engagement was the
most prudent thing in the world, since it inspired him with double energy for
work. He was to be a lawyer, and what reason was there why he should not rise as
high as Eldon did? He was forced to look at life in the light of his father's
mind.
    But when the door opened and she whose presence he was longing for entered,
there came over him suddenly and mysteriously a state of tremor and distrust
which he had never felt before. Miss Gwendolen, simple as she stood there, in
her black silk, cut square about the round white pillar of her throat, a black
band fastening her hair which streamed backwards in smooth silky abundance,
seemed more queenly than usual. Perhaps it was that there was none of the latent
fun and tricksiness which had always pierced in her greeting of Rex. How much of
this was due to her presentiment from what he had said yesterday that he was
going to talk of love? How much from her desire to show regret about his
accident? Something of both