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"Quel pays!" reflected Truesdale; "equally without the atmosphere of art and the atmosphere of intrigue!" This observation pleased him; he felt that he had pierced the marrow of a complicated question, and he passed along the street holding a higher head. He drew a letter from his pocket and creased it thoughtfully in his hands as he walked on.
The actual mental state of Truesdale was, however, with Jane and with everybody else, a matter of pure conjecture. Very little, in fact, was seen of him. He breakfasted in his own room, as he had done ever since his return home. When the waitress had declined to enter the chamber with his coffee and rolls he had shrugged his shoulders and had directed to have them set on the floor outside.
"And you yourself are you in, or out, or not thinking about it, or-" "I?" returned Truesdale, carelessly. "I'm just a passer-by; I'm on my way to Japan." "Oh no; not Japan!" said the girl, quickly. "Japan, I assure you," he smiled. She caught herself. "To escape my uncle, then?" "Why that, in Heaven's name?" "You have offended him." "Dear me! How?" "By what you said at the house the other night.
In order not to take up their time he asked: therefore, that it be immediately put on its second and third reading and allowed to pass. He sat down, and I looked at Krebs. Could he, could any man, any lawyer, have the presumption to question such an obviously desirable measure, to arraign the united judgment of the committee's legal talent? Such was the note Mr. Truesdale so admirably struck.
"Live stock!" exclaimed Bart, "I'm sure I've bought nothing!" Then, as light broke in his brain, "Maybe it's that setter pup that Truesdale promised me as soon as it was weaned, which would be about now!" "Would a setter pup come in three crates?" inquired The Man, solemnly. "It must be live plants and not live stock!"
And back he went, with this small difference: that on the return he occupied the place of William Bates. Truesdale returned home from Wisconsin after an absence of ten or twelve days; he came back without having visited Geneva. He had visited Madison, however. His feeling, as he traversed the streets of that pleasant capital, was distinctly one of pique.
"I got his breath." "I should think so," said Truesdale. "And such shoes as they have, and such hands, and such linen! Didn't that fellow see what we were? Couldn't he realize that we pay for the buttons on his coat? Mightn't he have tried to apprehend that we were people of position here long before he had scraped his wretched steerage-money together? And what was it he had working in his cheek?"
Rosamund was teaching her father how to spend money; no other member of the family, save Truesdale, had ever attempted as much. "Are we going on forever living in this same old place?" Rosy asked her mother one day.
Now that they are making it all over, they might easily find a place for you." "Um," observed Truesdale, falling into a gloomy and chilling reserve. His aunt saw the necessity of abandoning this new ground at once. "You'll take pains, won't you?" she said, struggling back to her former position. "You'll make it as nice as you can?"
Then came the slam of a carriage door, and he knew that Jim was going back to the big, empty house. The next morning, Friday, Harvey took the early train for Truesdale. He picked up a carriage at the station and drove rapidly out to Porter's home. From the porte-cochere he hastened to the door, rang the bell, and asked for her.
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