Page:The Lark - E Nesbit, 1922.djvu/13

14 Hendon Towers among the moving kaleidoscope of strangers he suddenly met Miss Antrobus, and saw the quite pretty blush and smile that lighted the quite plain face of Miss Antrobus as she greeted him, he felt that he had never really seen the girl before. Suppose he actually were like his father, in that respect as in others? Suppose he were the sort of man who cannot ever fall in love, and who yet wanted a home companionship—leisure too (that thought would slip in)? Supposing Hilda really cared? . . . Why then. . . why then. ..

Supposing she really cared? The thought touched him oddly. He had never been in love with any woman, but he had been, for long enough in love with love. He knew well enough what love must be; and if this girl cared. . . why then he could make her happy, make his mother happy and set free that caged bird in him that year in and year out beat its wings against the constraining bars of an enforced activity that was not the activity he longed for but one enforced by circumstances and the will of others If only the inventive genius that he felt penned in him could take free flight! Marrying for money had not a pleasant sound but this would be marrying for freedom and happiness—his freedom, her happiness, and, perhaps in the end, his own. To this her money would be a means. It would never be an end in itself. That was where baseness would have been.

Under the influence of these sentiments he found himself smiling kindly at Miss Antrobus in her simple, expense dress of unbecoming blue silk and saying, "How jolly to meet you here!"

It was the tenderest speech he had ever made to her; and, having made it, he could think of nothing else to say. A fleeting wonder crossed his mind: what would it be like to sit at table for half a lifetime, opposite a woman to whom one could think of nothing to say? but she herself was speaking.

"It is nice to see you," she said; "and what a beautiful day, too!"