I'm so
glad you really took your holiday there at last; you often used to
speak of doing so. And you met my sister--Winifred wrote to me all
about it. The Coppingers were delighted to see you. Don't you think
them nice people? Did poor Mrs. Coppinger seem any better?"
In spite of himself, Will encountered her look, met the beautiful
eyes, felt their smile envelop him. Never till now had he known the
passive strength of woman, that characteristic which at times makes
her a force of Nature rather than an individual being. Amazed,
abashed, he let his head fall--and mumbled something about Mrs.
Coppinger's state of health.
He did not stay much longer. When he took his leave, it would have
seemed natural if Franks had come out to walk a little way with him,
but his friend bore him company only to the door.
"Let us see you as often as possible, old man. I hope you'll often
come and lunch on Sunday; nothing could please us better."
Franks' handgrip was very cordial, the look and tone were
affectionate, but Will said to himself that the old intimacy was at
an end; it must now give place to mere acquaintanceship. He
suspected that Franks was afraid to come out and walk with him,
afraid that it might not please his wife. That Rosamund was to rule
--very sweetly of course, but unmistakably--no one could doubt
who saw the two together for five minutes. It would be, in all
likelihood, a happy subjugation, for Norbert was of anything but a
rebellious temper; his bonds would be of silk; the rewards of his
docility would be such as many a self-assertive man might envy.
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