I had a feeling that even in this case, where I was sure that Uncle Luke cared for his old love, I should respect my godmother's dignity.

Even Luke L'Estrange ought not to be sure that she expected him.
"I thought she would have come to rejoice with us," my grandmother said disappointedly; and my grandfather's face showed that he, too, did not understand the constant friend's absence in the hour of great joy.
"Is it that she cannot forgive us ?" he muttered.
But the lover knew better than that.
"To be sure I must go to her," he said.

"It would not be fitting that she should come to me.

I would have been earlier astir than Bawn; I would have been waiting for her doors to open, only that--there is something that must be done first." "I don't think there is anything you need wait for, Uncle Luke," I said, handing the sealed packet to my grandfather.

"I met Richard Dawson on my way back.