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Upon my word you might as well have made it tomorrow. The fuss would have been no worse and a good deal shorter." The next few days passed, as Miss Bussey had predicted, in a fluster. Mary was running after dress makers, John after licenses, Cook's tickets, a best man, and all the impedimenta of a marriage.
Sir Roger had predicted "a jolly lunch," but, in its early stages, the entertainment hardly earned this description. Something was wrong somewhere; Dora started by refusing, very pointedly, to sit near Charlie Ellerton; and yet, when she found herself between Ashforth and Laing, she was absent, silent, and melancholy. Charlie, on the other hand, painfully practised a labored attentiveness to Mary Travers which contrasted ill with his usual spontaneous and gay courtesy. Miss Bussey wore an air of puzzled gravity, and Laing kept looking at her with a calculating eye. He seemed to be seeking the best grip. Lady Deane and the General, engrossed in a tête-
"Bussey's got all this?" inquired Marrineal, and upon the other's careless "I suppose so," added, "It must grind his soul not to be able to use it." "Or not to get paid for suppressing it," grinned Ives. "But does Banneker understand that it's fear of his pen, and not of being killed, that binds Bussey?" Ives nodded. "I've taken care to rub that in.
They could part from their loved ones, and they did; but they could not leave them without a word. Each wrote, after leaving Scotland and Switzerland respectively, a few lines of adieu, confessing the love they felt, but with resolute sadness saying farewell forever. They belonged to another. It was the answers that Mary and John were reading when Miss Bussey discovered them.
"He held that old carrion-buzzard, Bussey, up at the muzzle of The Patriot as if it were a blunderbuss. It was loaded to kill, too. And then," pursued Edmonds, "he paid the price. Marrineal got out his little gun and held him up." "Held Ban up? What for? How could he do that? All this is a riddle to me, Mr. Edmonds."
Even Miss Bussey was inclined to think that all had happened for the best. John's eloquence had shaken her first disapprobation; the visible happiness of the persons chiefly concerned pleaded yet more persuasively. What harm, after all, was done, except for a little trouble and a little gossip? To these Mary and John were utterly indifferent.
There was a constant stream of bicycles, some of them steered by fair riders in neat bloomer-suits; the road-waterers spread a grateful coolness in their ambit, for the afternoon was hot for the time of year, and the dust had an almost autumnal volume. Miss Bussey had been talking for nearly ten minutes on end, and now she stopped with an exhausted air, and sipped her coffee.
Still, you see, it's so dashed queer that sometimes " "I'm sure she's very fond of you," said Miss Bussey, rather surprised fit the nature of the confidence which she was receiving. "I expect it's all right," resumed Deane, more cheerfully, "and that brings us back to where we started, doesn't it?" "And we started in bewilderment."
"They're as affectionate as one could wish when they're together," mused Miss Bussey, as she stroked the cat, "but at other times they're gloomy company. I suppose they can't be happy apart. Dear! dear!" and the good old lady fell to wondering whether she had ever been so foolish herself.
"I've always wanted so much to meet you," she disclosed, giving him a quick, gentle hand pressure. "So has Major Bussey. Too bad he's out of town. Did you want to see him personally?" "Quite personally." Banneker returned her smile with one even more friendly and confiding. "Wouldn't I do? Come into my office, won't you? I represent him in some things."