She laid her hand on the girl’s. “When his grandmother sees how happy Owen is she’ll be quite happy herself. If it’s only that, don’t be distressed. Just trust to Owen–and the future.”
Sophy Viner, with an almost imperceptible recoil of her whole slight person, had drawn her hand from under the palm enclosing it.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about–the future.”
“Of course! We’ve all so many plans to make–and to fit into each other’s. Please let’s begin with yours.”
The girl paused a moment, her hands clasped on the arms of her chair, her lids dropped under Anna’s gaze; then she said: “I should like to make no plans at all…just yet…”
“No plans?”
“No-I should like to go away…my friends the Farlows would let me go to them…” Her voice grew firmer and she lifted her eyes to add: “I should like to leave today, if you don’t mind.”
Anna listened with a rising wonder.
“You want to leave Givre at once?” She gave the idea a moment’s swift consideration. “You prefer to be with your friends till your marriage? I understand that–but surely you needn’t rush off today? There are so many details to discuss; and before long, you know, I shall be going away too.”
“Yes, I know.” The girl was evidently trying to steady her voice. “But I should like to wait a few days–to have a little more time to myself.”
Anna continued to consider her kindly. It was evident that she did not care to say why she wished to leave Givre so suddenly, but her disturbed face and shaken voice betrayed a more pressing motive than the natural desire to spend the weeks before her marriage under her old friends’ roof. Since she had made no response to the allusion to Madame de Chantelle, Anna could but conjecture that she had had a passing disagreement with Owen; and if this were so, random interference might do more harm than good.
“My dear child, if you really want to go at once I sha’n’t, of course, urge you to stay. I suppose you have spoken to Owen?”
“No. Not yet…”
Anna threw an astonished glance at her. “You mean to say you haven’t told him?”
“I wanted to tell you first. I thought I ought to, on account of Effie.” Her look cleared as she put forth this reason.
“Oh, Effie!–” Anna’s smile brushed away the scruple. “Owen has a right to ask that you should consider him before you think of his sister…Of course you shall do just as you wish,” she went on, after another thoughtful interval.
“Oh, thank you,” Sophy Viner murmured and rose to her feet.
Anna rose also, vaguely seeking for some word that should break down the girl’s resistance. “You’ll tell Owen at once?” she finally asked.
Miss Viner, instead of replying, stood before her in manifest uncertainty, and as she did so there was a light tap on the door, and Owen Leath walked into the room.
Anna’s first glance told her that his face was unclouded. He met her greeting with his happiest smile and turned to lift Sophy’s hand to his lips. The perception that he was utterly unconscious of any cause for Miss Viner’s agitation came to his step-mother with a sharp thrill of surprise.
“Darrow’s looking for you,” he said to her. “He asked me to remind you that you’d promised to go for a walk with him.”
Anna glanced at the clock. “I’ll go down presently.” She waited and looked again at Sophy Viner, whose troubled eyes seemed to commit their message to her. “You’d better tell Owen, my dear.”
Owen’s look also turned on the girl. “Tell me what? Why, what’s happened?”
Anna summoned a laugh to ease the vague tension of the moment. “Don’t look so startled! Nothing, except that Sophy proposes to desert us for a while for the Farlows.”
Owen’s brow cleared. “I was afraid she’d run off before long.” He glanced at Anna. “Do please keep her here as long as you can!”
Sophy intervened: “Mrs. Leath’s already given me leave to go.”
“Already? To go when?”
“Today,” said Sophy in a low tone, her eyes on Anna’s.