"Affairs of
State," Cousin Christopher had explained to Malvina, who, familiar
one takes it with the calls upon knights and warriors through all
the ages, had approved.
He stood there with his helmet in his hand.
"Only arrived this afternoon from France," he explained. "Haven't
a moment to spare."
But he had just time to go straight to Malvina. He laughed as he
took her in his arms and kissed her full upon the lips.
When last he had kissed her--it had been in the orchard; the
Professor had been witness to it--Malvina had remained quite
passive, only that curious little smile about her lips. But now an
odd thing happened. A quivering seemed to pass through all her
body, so that it swayed and trembled. The Professor feared she was
going to fall; and, maybe to save herself, she put up her arms about
Commander Raffleton's neck, and with a strange low cry--it sounded
to the Professor like the cry one sometimes hears at night from some
little dying creature of the woods--she clung to him sobbing.
It must have been a while later when the chiming of the clock
recalled to the Professor the appointment with Mrs. Marigold.
"You will only just have time," he said, gently seeking to release
her. "I'll promise to keep him till you come back." And as Malvina
did not seem to understand, he reminded her.
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