Huge trees obscured the view of it. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. The forgiveness and reconciliation was a cold and formal affair, and afterwards her father went off gloomily to his study, and Mr. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes.
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