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"On the fifth shelf," said Roger. "Over there " "For God's sake stand back," said Aubrey. "Don't go near him. There's something damnable about this." "You poor fools!" cried Metzger harshly. "To hell with you and your old books." He drew his hand back as though to throw the volume at them. There was a quick patter of feet, and Bock, growling, ran down the aisle.
We haven't seen one for a long time." "Was he a little bald man with a red beard and bright blue eyes?" asked Aubrey hoarsely. "Yes Mr. Mifflin of Brooklyn. Do you know him?" "I should say I do!" cried Aubrey. "Where has he gone? I've been hunting him all over town, the scoundrel!" The bookseller, douce man, had seen too many eccentric customers to be shocked by the vehemence of his questioner.
Now come away, Aubrey, and remember for your comfort it is not the good-bye it might have been, he added, as he watched the mute intensity of the boys' farewell clasp of the hands; but even then had some difficulty in getting Aubrey away from the friend so much stronger as the consoler than as the consoled, and unconsciously showing how in the last twenty-four hours his mind had acted on the topics presented to him by Mr.
Chapman's coming to dinner this evening, and we'll all have a good talk. There's a lot about this business I don't understand yet." Aubrey was still keeping his eye open for a sign of Titania's presence, and Roger noticed his wandering gaze. "This is Miss Chapman's afternoon off," he said. "She got her first salary to-day, and was so much exhilarated that she went to New York to blow it in.
Trusting the cause to the zeal of my uncle, whose hatred to the ecclesiastic would, I knew, be an efficacious adjunct to his diplomatic address, and not unwilling to avoid being myself the person to acquaint my mother with the suspected delinquency of her favourite, I hastened from the knight's apartment in search of Aubrey. He was not in the house.
Aubrey continued walking in even stride, as though he had seen nothing. Returning down the street, on the opposite side, he verified his first glance. The light was still there, and he judged himself not far out in assuming the smoker to be the friend and well-wisher or one of his gang. He had suspected the other man in the alley of being Weintraub, but he could not be sure.
He unlocked the door into the yard, and Bock obeying the Irish terrier's natural impulse to get into the open air, ran outside. Aubrey quickly closed the door again. Bock's face appeared at the broken window, looking in with so quaint an expression of indignant surprise that Aubrey almost laughed. "There, old man," he said, "it's all right. I'm just going to look around a bit."
'I congratulate you, quietly said Tom; and somehow Ethel felt that those three words were a satire on her 'capable of great things; while Leonard drew up, and Averil coloured, deferring the exhibition of Mab's accomplishments till 'another time, evidently meaning out of Tom's presence. 'Aubrey is gone to the Grange with papa, Ethel said, glad to lead away from Mab.
Aubrey walked many miles, gradually throwing his despair to the winds. The bright spirits of Orison Swett Marden and Ralph Waldo Trine, Dioscuri of Good Cheer, seemed to be with him reminding him that nothing is impossible. In a small restaurant he found sausages, griddle cakes and syrup. When he got back to Gissing Street it was dark, and he girded his soul for further endeavour.
'Poor Flora! You were no judge in her blooming days, before wear and tear came. 'And made her like our Scotch grandfather. 'But Blanche! your own Blanche, Aubrey? She might have extended Leonard's ideas of beauty. 'Blanche has a pretty little visage of her own; but it's not so well worth looking at as yours, said Aubrey. 'One has seen to the end of it at once; and it won't light up.
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