"Indeed,
indeed, I think I have always been sorry since. I think that I have
never at any minute during these five years quite forgotten that fourth
white feather and the quiet air of dignity with which he took it. But
to-day I am glad." And her voice, though low, rang rich with the fulness
of her pride. "Oh, very glad! For this was his thought, his deed. They
are both all his, as I would have them be. I had no share, and of that I
am very proud. He needed no woman's faith, no woman's encouragement."
"Yet he sent this back to you," said Willoughby, pointing in some
perplexity to the feather which Ethne held.
"Yes," she said, "yes. He knew that I should be glad to know." And
suddenly she held it close to her breast. Thus she sat for a while with
her eyes shining, until Willoughby rose to his feet and pointed to the
gap in the hedge by which they had entered the enclosure.
"By Jove! Jack Durrance," he exclaimed.
Durrance was standing in the gap, which was the only means of entering
or going out.
CHAPTER XVI
CAPTAIN WILLOUGHBY RETIRES
Ethne had entirely forgotten even Colonel Durrance's existence. From the
moment when Captain Willoughby had put that little soiled feather which
had once been white, and was now yellow, into her hand, she had had no
thought for any one but Harry Feversham.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229