Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943 / 2008-09-14 00:00:00


"I am not hungry," she protested, "keep it for yourself."
He did not press the matter, but took his place and began to talk quietly
upon the news of the day--in a composed fashion between glances at _The
Times_ and mouthfuls of sole.
Amaryllis controlled herself. She was too proud and too just to make a
foolish scene. If this was John's way and her little effort at enticement
was a failure, she must put up with it. Marriage was a lottery she had
always heard, and it might be her luck to have drawn a blank. So she
choked down the rising emotion and answered brightly, showing interest in
her husband's remarks--and she even managed to eat some omelette, and
when the business of breakfast was quite over she went to the window and
John followed her there.
The view which met their eyes was exquisite.
Beyond the perfect stately garden, with its quaint clipped yews and
masses of spring flowers and velvet lawns, there stretched the vast park
with its splendid oaks and browsing deer. It was a possession which any
man could feel proud to own.
John slipped his arm round her waist and drew her to him.
"Amaryllis," he said, and his voice vibrated, "to-day I am going to show
you everything I love here at Ardayre--because I want you to love it
all, too. You are of the family, so it must mean something to you, dear."
Amaryllis kindled with re-awakening hope.
"Indeed, it will mean everything to me, John."
He kissed her forehead and murmured something about her dressing quickly,
and that he would wait for her there in the cedar room.
Read more


Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14