"Will you play again?"
"No; I lost seventy pounds to-night."
"I protest, grandmother, that such high stakes go not with amusement.
People come here, not for civility, but for the chance of money."
"Very well, sir. Money! It is the only excuse for card-playing. All the
rest is sinning without temptation. But, Dick, put on the black coat to
preach in,--why do they wear black to preach in?--and I am not in a
humour for a sermon. Come to-morrow at one o'clock; we shall reach
Julia's before dinner. And I dare say you want money to-night. Here are
the keys of my desk. In the right-hand drawer are some rouleaus of
fifty pounds each. Take two."
The weather, as Lady Capel said, was "so very Decemberish" that the
roads were passably good, being frozen dry and hard; and on the evening
of the third day Hyde came in sight of his home. His heart warmed to the
lonely place; and the few lights in its windows beckoned him far more
pleasantly than the brilliant illuminations of Vauxhall or Almacks, or
even the cold splendours of royal receptions. He had given Katherine no
warning of his visit--partly because he had a superstitious feeling
about talking of expected joys (he had noticed that when he did so they
vanished beyond his grasp); partly because love, like destiny, loves
surprises; and he wanted to see with his own eyes, and hear with his own
ears, the glad tokens of her happy wonder.
So he rode his horse upon the turf, and, seeing a light in the stable,
carried him there at once. It was just about the hour of the evening
meal, and the house was brighter than it would have been a little later.
The kitchen fire threw great lustres across the brick-paved yard; and
the blinds in Katherine's parlour were undrawn, and its fire and
candle-light shone on the freshly laid tea-table, and the dark walls
gleaming with bunches of holly and mistletoe. But she was not there. He
only glanced inside the room, and then, with a smile on his face, went
swiftly upstairs. He had noticed the light in the upper windows, and he
knew where he would find his wife. Before he reached the nursery, he
heard Katherine's voice. The door was a little open, and he could see
every part of the charming domestic scene within the room. A middle-aged
woman was quietly putting to rights the sweet disorder incident to the
undressing of the baby. Katherine had played with it until they were
both a little flushed and weary; and she was softly singing to the
drowsy child at her breast.