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Lane perhaps he would just show us the way out; we can easily find a cab." There was an imploring, urgent look in her face which struck Mrs. Lane. But Mr. Lane's loud friendly voice broke in from behind. "My dear Miss Boyce! we can't possibly allow it no! no just half an hour while they bring us our coffee to do your homage, you know, to the terrace and the river and the moon!
He shook hands with me in a melancholy way. In a humbler walk of life, I am sure he would have been an undertaker. "Now," said Sir Anthony, "tell us all about your interview with Boyce." "Before I commit myself," said I, "with the Civic Authorities, will you kindly inform me what this conference coram publico is all about?" "Why, my dear chap, haven't I told you?" cried Sir Anthony.
You see I can sleep at any time." "Your father seems to prefer Nurse Wenlock," said Mrs. Boyce. Marcella took the little blow in silence. No doubt it was her due. During the past two years she had spent two separate months at Mellor; she had gone away in opposition to her father's wish; and had found herself on her return more of a stranger to her parents than ever. Mr.
I was so intent on his danger that I forgot all about Boyce: but as soon as the three crashed down, I saw him run to assist the young subaltern who had rolled himself clear. "By Jove, that was a narrow shave!" he cried cordially, giving him a hand. "It was indeed, sir," said the young man, scraping the mud off his face. "That's the second time the brute has done it.
The birches could still show a few golden leaves, though each moment another went whirling away as the crests bowed and tossed before the wind. In the brown bracken beneath Harry Boyce stood waiting. His graces were set off with his customary rusty black. His hat was well down upon his bobwig, and he hunched his shoulders against the wind, making a picture of melancholy discomfort.
She played her game, laughed with her young men, and took casual leave of Boyce, wishing him good sport. He drew her a pace aside and murmured: "God bless you for forgiving me." She laughed a reply out loud: "Oh, that's all right." When he told me that, I recalled vividly the picture of her, in my garden, on the last afternoon of her life, eating the strawberries which she had brought me for tea.
"He nearly burned his fingers," said I, shortly. I had no desire to relate the incident. We talked of the coming ceremony and I gave them the details of the programme. Boyce had been right in accepting on the score of his mother. Only once had she been the central figure in any public ceremony on her wedding day, in the years long ago. Here was a new kind of wedding day in her old age.
He knew, for instance, that the trousseau was being made at home, and that during the last few weeks the lady for whom it was destined had shown an indifference to the progress of it which seemed to excite a dumb annoyance in her mother. Curious woman, Mrs. Boyce! He found himself listening to every opening door, and already, as it were, gazing at Marcella in her white array.
At the present moment, in spite of the even good-breeding with which she knitted and chattered beside Marcella, she was in truth consumed with curiosity, conjecture, and alarm on the subject of this Miss Boyce. Profoundly as they trusted each other, the Raeburns were not on the surface a communicative family.
You mustn't take offence at anything I say to you, for I'm part Irish my grandmother was Mary Boyce of Trim; and if she hadn't come away and settled in Salem, Massachusetts, mebbe I wouldn't have known a scrubbin' brush by sight myself!"
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