Weguelin saw us likewise.But she was truly admirable in giving no sign,she came out well ahead;the lectures were not hurried,one had no sense of points being skipped to accommodate our unworthiness,it required a previous familiarity with the church to know (as I did)that there was,indeed,more and more skipping;yet the little lady played her part so evenly and with never a falter of voice nor a change in the gentle courtesy of her manner,that I do not think--save for that moment at the window-sill--I could have been sure what she thought,or how much she noticed.Her face was always so pale,it may well have been all imagination with me that she seemed,when we emerged at last into the light of the street,paler than usual;but I am almost certain that her hand was trembling as she stood receiving the thanks of the party.These thanks were cut a little short by the arrival of one of the automobiles,and,at the same time,the appearance of Hortense strolling toward us with John Mayrant.
Charley had resumed to Bohm,"A tax of twenty-five cents on the ton is nothing with deposits of this richness,"when his voice ceased;and looking at him to see the cause,I perceived that his eye was on John,and that his polished finger-nail was running meditatively along his thin mustache.
Hortense took the matter--whatever the matter was--in hand.
"You haven't much time,"she said to Charles,who consulted his watch.
"Who's coming to see me off?"he inquired.
"Where's he going?"I asked Beverly.
"She's sending him North,"Beverly answered,and then he spoke with his very best simple manner to Mrs.Weguelin St.Michael."May I not walk home with you after all your kindness?"She was going to say no,for she had had enough of this party;but she looked at Beverly,and his face and his true solicitude won her;she said,"Thank you,if you will."And the two departed together down the shabby street,the little veiled lady in black,and Beverly with his excellent London clothes and his still more excellent look of respectful,sheltering attention.
And now Bohm pronounced the only utterance that I heard fall from his lips during his stay in Kings Port.He looked at the church he had come from,he looked at the neighboring larger church whose columns stood out at the angle of the street;he looked at the graveyard opposite that,then at the stale,dusty shop of old furniture,and then up the shabby street,where no life or movement was to be seen,except the distant forms of Beverly and Mrs.Weguelin St.Michael.Then from a gold cigar-case,curved to fit his breast pocket,he took a cigar and lighted it from a gold match-box.Offering none of us a cigar,he placed the case again in his pocket;and holding his lighted cigar a moment with two fingers in his strong glove,he spoke:--"This town's worse than Sunday."
Then he got into the automobile.They all followed to see Charley off,and he addressed me.
"I shall be glad,"he said,"if you will make one of a little party on the yacht next Sunday,when I come back.And you also,"he added to John.
Both John and I expressed our acceptance in suitable forms,and the automobile took its way to the train.
"Your Kings Port streets,"I said,as we walked back toward Mrs.
Trevise's,"are not very favorable for automobiles.""No,"he returned briefly.I don't remember that either of us found more to say until we had reached my front door,when he asked,"Will the day after to-morrow suit you for Udolpho?""Whenever you say,"I told him.
"Weather permitting,of course.But I hope that it will;for after that Isuppose my time will not be quite so free."
After we had parted it struck me that this was the first reference to his approaching marriage that John had ever made in my hearing since that day long ago (it seemed long ago,at least)when he had come to the Exchange to order the wedding-cake,and Eliza La Heu had fallen in love with him at sight.That,in my opinion,looking back now with eyes at any rate partially opened,was what Eliza had done.Had John returned the compliment then,or since?
