His eyes met hers, and he saw the horror in them. Instantly, the anger
died out of his. He lowered his hand, carefully examined the pattern on
the cup, then replaced it gently in the saucer.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I ought not to have said that--about
another woman. There is but _one_ woman for me; and, welcome or no
welcome, there is but one home."
Then he turned from her, slowly, deliberately, taking his 'cello with
him. He left the room, without looking back. She heard him cross the
hall, pause as if to pick up something there; then pass down the
corridor leading to the studio.
Listening intently, she heard the door of the studio close; not with a
bang--Ronnie had banged doors before now--but with a quiet
irrevocability which seemed to shut her out, completely and altogether.
Sinking into the chair in which she had awaited his coming with so much
eagerness of anticipation, Helen broke into an uncontrollable paroxysm
of weeping.
CHAPTER XII
A FRIEND IN DEED
Precisely how long she remained alone in her sitting-room, Helen never
knew; but it cannot have been the long hours it seemed, seeing that
Simpkins did not appear to fetch the tea-tray, nor did Nurse send down
any message from the nursery.
Helen had wept herself into the calm of exhaustion, and was trying to
decide what her next move should be, when the hoot of a motor sounded in
the park. In another moment she heard it panting at the door.
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