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For several hours he argued pro and con with this mental counsellor, feeling no need to act at once in a matter so sure of profit. In the morning he put on his best clothes, which were poor enough, and began stirring about, putting some bread and meat into a page of a newspaper. Carrie watched him, interested in this new move. "Where are you going?" she asked. "Over to Brooklyn," he answered.
"Suppose you come and look at the rooms," he added. "I'd be glad to," said Carrie, "but I have a rehearsal this morning." "I did not mean at once," he returned. "Any time will do. Would this afternoon be inconvenient?" "Not at all," said Carrie. Suddenly she remembered Lola, who was out at the time. "I have a room-mate," she added, "who will have to go wherever I do. I forgot about that."
Then he would decide to make the best of it, and would begin to do so by starting the whole inquiry over again. It was a fruitless, harassing round, and left him in a queer mood to deal with the proposition he had in the presence of Carrie. The train clacked through the yards along the lake front, and ran rather slowly to Twenty-fourth Street. Brakes and signals were visible without.
Uncle Geoffrey would not hear of her exerting herself, and, indeed, she looked so frail and broken that even Fred got alarmed about her. Carrie was her principal companion, for Dot took all my attention; and, indeed, it nearly broke our hearts to see him. Uncle Geoffrey had carried him from the room when father's last attack had come on.
He finally went about and asked how she was getting along. The actors were all dressing, talking, hurrying about. Drouet was palavering himself with the looseness of excitement and passion. The manager mastered himself only by a great effort. "We are going to supper, of course," he said, with a voice that was a mockery of his heart. "Oh, yes," said Carrie, smiling.
He said he was sure his uncle would be only too pleased to see me, and he had a nice house, Watney Lodge, only a few minutes' walk from Muswell Hill Station. I gave him our address, and we parted. In the evening, to my surprise, he called with a very nice letter from Mr. Carrie did not like to go; but Teddy Finsworth pressed us so much we consented.
Not a word on the subject did she say to Carrie, who retired to her room at half-past eight, as was her usual custom. Alone now Margaret waited. Nine, ten, eleven had been struck, and then into the sitting-room came Mr. Hamilton, greatly astonished at finding his daughter there. "Why, Margaret," said he, "why are you sitting up so late?"
"Carrie said I was mad, coming out in it today; and should get sunstroke, and all sort of things; and Gerald said at dinner that, if it were not against the regulations, he would like to shave his head, instead of plastering it all over with powder." "I call it disgusting," Jim said, heartily. "That is the one thing I envy you in.
On the way his temper cooled as he thought of the details of the case. What did she know? What had she done? Maybe she'd got hold of Carrie, who knows or or Drouet. Perhaps she really had evidence, and was prepared to fell him as a man does another from secret ambush. She was shrewd. Why should she taunt him this way unless she had good grounds?
He turned quickly to the girl at this point, as if afraid of betraying more feeling than he had intended to do. "You've delivered your message," said he, sharply, "now you can go." But Carrie lingered. Looking shyly at Max, she said in a low voice: "Have you made up your mind that you will go with him?" "Yes," said Max. "All right," nodded Carrie. "Then I'll go, too."
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