But today he was to come, for everything was finally in order, and, though this she did not know till later, Walter Dunsmore had at last been discovered, dead from poison self-administered, in a wretched lodging in an East End slum.Rupert had been called to identify the body and he had been able to arrange it so that very little was said at the inquest, where the customary verdict of "Suicide during temporary insanity" was duly returned by a quite uninterested jury.
That the last had been heard of the tragedy that had so nearly overwhelmed his life, Rupert was able now to feel fairly well assured, and it was therefore in a mood more cheerful than he had known of late that he started on his journey to Ella's new residence.
He had sent a wire to confirm his letter, and it was in a mood that was more than a little nervous that she busied herself with her preparations.
She chose her very ******st gown, and when there was absolutely nothing more to do she went into their little sitting-room to wait alone by the fire she had built up there, for it was winter now and today was cold and inclined to be stormy.
Rupert had not said exactly when she was to expect him, and she sat for a long time by the fire, starting at every sound and imagining at every moment that she heard the front-door bell ring.
"I shall not let him feel himself bound," she said to herself with great decision."I shall tell him I hope we shall always be friends but that's all; and if he wants anything more, I shall say No.But most likely he won't say a word about all that nonsense, it would be silly to take seriously what he said - there."To Ella, now, Bittermeads was always "there," and though she told herself several times that probably Rupert had not the least idea of repeating what he had said to her - there - and that most likely he was coming today merely to make a friendly call, and that it would never do for either of them to think again of what they had said when they were both so excited and overwrought, yet in her heart she knew a great deal better than all that.
But she said to herself very often:
"Anyhow, I shall certainly refuse him."
And on this point her mind was irrevocably made up since, after all, whether Rupert would accept refusal or not would still remain entirely for him to decide.
At half-past three she heard the garden-gate creak, and when she ran to the window to peep, she saw with a kind of chill surprise that there was a stranger coming through.
"Some one he's sent," she said to herself."He doesn't want to come himself and so he has sent some one else instead.I am glad."Having said this and repeated again the last three words, and having gulped down a sob - presumably of joy - that unexpectedly fluttered into her throat, she went quickly to open the door.
The newly-arrived stranger smiled at her as she showed herself but did not speak.He was a man of middle height, quite young, and wrapped in a big, loose overcoat that very completely hid his figure.
His face, clean-shaven, showed clear, strongly-marked well-shaped features with a firm mouth round which at this moment played a very gentle and winning smile, a square-cut chin, and extremely bright, clear kindly eyes that were just now smiling too.
When he took off his hat she saw that his hair was cut rather closely, and very neatly brushed and combed, and she found his smile so compelling and so winning that in spite of her disappointment she found herself returning it.
It occurred to her that she had some time or another seen some one like this stranger, but when or where she could not imagine.
Still he did not speak, but his eyes were very tender and kind as they rested on her so that she wondered a little.
"Yes?" she said inquiringly."Yes?"
"Don't you know me,.Ella?" he said then, very softly, and in a voice that she recognized instantly.
"Is it you - you?" she breathed.
Instinctively she lifted her hands to greet him, and at once she found herself caught up and held, pressed passionately to his strongly-beating heart.
An hour later, by the fire in the sitting-room, Ella suddenly remembered tea.
"Good gracious! You must be starving," she cried, smitten with remorse."And there's poor mother waiting upstairs all this time.
Oh, Rupert, are you very hungry?"
"Starving," he asserted, but held her to him as closely as ever.
"I must get the tea," she protested.She put one cheek against his and sighed contentedly.
"It's nice to see the really you," she murmured."But oh, Rupert, I do miss your dear bristly beard."
End
