Thinking of his daughter, and smiling to himself, he lounged aimlessly
about the garden; then it occurred to him to go into the stable and
look at Helena's pony. After that he strolled over to the carriage-
house where were stored a number of cases containing stuffed
creatures--birds and chipmunks and small furry things. Some larger
animals were slung up under the beams of the loft to get them out of
the way; there was a bear in one corner, and a great crocodile, and a
shark; possessions of the previous owner of the Stuffed Animal House,
stored here by her executor, pending the final settlement of the
estate.
Lloyd Pryor stood at the doorway looking in. Through a grimed and
cobwebbed window at the farther end of the room the light filtered
down among the still figures; there was the smell of dead fur and
feathers, and of some acrid preservative. One box had been broken in
moving it from the house, and a beaver had slipped from his carefully
bitten branch, and lay on the dusty boards, a burst of cotton pushing
through the splitting belly-seam. Lloyd Pryor thrust it into its case
with his stick, and started as he did so. Something moved, back in the
dusk.
"It's I, Lloyd," Helena Richie said.
"You? My dear Nelly! Why are you sitting in this gloomy place?"
She smiled faintly, but her face was weary with tears. "Oh, I just--
came in here," she said vaguely.
She had said to herself when, angry and wounded, she left him in the
garden, that if she went back to the house he would find her. So she
had come here to the dust and silence of the carriage-house, and
sitting down on one of the cases had hidden her face in her hands.
Little by little anger ebbed. Just misery remained. But still she sat
there, looking absently at these dead creatures about her, or at a
thin line of sunshine falling through a heart-shaped opening in a
shutter, and moving noiselessly across the floor. A mote dipped into
this stream of light, zigzagged through it, then sank into the
darkness. She followed it with dull eyes, thinking, if she thought at
all, that she wished she did not have to sit opposite Lloyd at dinner.
But, of course, she would have to, the servants would think it strange
if she did not come to table with him. Suddenly the finger of sunshine
vanished, and all the motes were gone. Raising her head with a long
sigh she saw him in the doorway, his tall figure black against the
smiling spring landscape outside. Her heart came up into her throat
with a rush of delight. He was looking for her! Ah, this was the way
it had been in those first days, when he could not bear to let her out
of his sight!