At luncheon-time he was careful not to come down before the bell
rang. As he prepared himself, the glass showed a drawn visage, heavy
eyes; he thought he was uglier than ever.
Descending, he heard no voices. With tremors he stepped into the
dining-room, and there sat Mrs. Hannaford alone.
"They have gone off for the day," she said, with a kind look. "To
Dorking, and Leith Hill, and I don't know where."
Piers felt a stab through the heart. He stammered something about a
hope that they would enjoy themselves. The meal passed very
silently, for Mrs. Hannaford was meditative. She paid unusual
attention to Piers, trying to tempt his appetite; but with
difficulty he swallowed a mouthful. And, the meal over, he returned
at once to his room.
About four o'clock--he was lying on the bed, staring at the
ceiling--a knock aroused him. The servant opened the door.
"A gentleman wanting to see you, sir--Mr. Daniel Otway."
Piers was glad. He would have welcomed any visitor. When Daniel--
who was better dressed than the other day--came into the room,
Piers shook hands warmly with him.
"Delightful spot!" exclaimed the elder, with more than his
accustomed suavity. "Charming little house!--I hope I shan't be
wasting your time?"
"Of course not. We shall have some tea presently. How glad I am to
see you!--I must introduce you to Mrs. Hannaford."
"Delighted, my dear boy! How well you look!--stop though; you are
_not_ looking very well----"
Piers broke into extravagant gaiety.
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