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Oliver is taking Ted out to Melgrove with him over Sunday for suburban fresh-air and swimming, so the two just manage to catch the 12.53 from the Grand Central, in spite of Slade Wilson's invitation to talk all night and breakfast at the Brevoort.
"When it has been fun and I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again in all our lives? For I can hardly come out to Melgrove now, can I, Oliver? And after you've had a quiet brotherly talk with her, I suppose I'll even have to give up lunching with Louise. And as for Ted poor Ted poor Mr. Billett with all his decorations of the Roller Towel, First Class Mr.
The walk seems to take her directly to the nearest Subway and so to the Pennsylvania Station, where, after she has acquired a timetable of trains to Melgrove, she seems to be a good deal happier than she has been for some time. At least as she is going up the cake-colored stairs to the Arcade again she cannot help taking the last one with an irrepressible skip.
Then she gives the number it is still the same number she and Oliver used when they used to talk after he had caught the last train back to Melgrove and both by all principles that make for the Life Efficient should have gone to bed though to Nancy's mind that seems a great while ago. "Can I speak to Mrs. Crowe, please?" The explaining can be as awful as it likes, Nancy doesn't care any more.
"We are young, you know." "Melgrove!" the conductor howls, sleepily. "Melgrove! Melgrove!" The Crowe house was both small and inconveniently situated it was twenty full minutes walk from the station and though a little box of a garage had been one of the "all modern conveniences" so fervidly painted in the real estate agent's advertisement, the Crowes had no car.
All she could think of was that it must be because of her that Oliver had left the company and illogically picture a starving Oliver painfully wandering the streets of New York and gazing at the food displayed in restaurant windows with lost and hopeless eyes. Then she shook herself what nonsense he must be at Melgrove.
So, between trying to think of some means of putting either sense or the fear of God into Elinor Piper, whatever Ted may say about it, and wondering how the latter would take a suggestion to come over to Melgrove for a while instead of starting an immoral existence with that beautiful but possessive friend of Louise's, he drops off to sleep.
It is better, however, to look melancholy than to have facetious features, which always appear to be on a broad grin. A strong contrast to both of them was found in our third officer, Samuel Melgrove. He was a man with strongly-marked, rather coarse features, with red hair and complexion.
But it gets pretty lonely, sometimes when there's nobody to run into that you can really talk to the people I used to play with in College are out of New York for the summer even Peter's down at Southampton most of the time or out at Star Bay you're in Melgrove Sam Woodward's married and working in Chicago Brick Turner's in New Mexico I've dropped out of the Wall Street bunch in the class that hang out at the Yale Club I'm posted there anyhow, and besides they've all made money and I haven't, and all they want to talk about is puts and calls.
The thought of how much she hoped Oliver's novel would succeed and the question as to whether the Thebes grocer who delivered by motor-truck would be cheaper than the similar Melgrove bandit in the long run mixed uneasily in her mind. Rosalind had seemed droopy that morning more green crab-apples probably. Aunt Elsie's gout.
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