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Updated: June 20, 2025
For the first time, Cobbens and his kind appeared to him the provincials they were. They no longer blocked his whole horizon, like the lion in the way. Dim dreams of wider ambitions, vague exhilarations, stirred within him. He began to think it possible to transcend Warwick. Thus his temper was less bitter than before, his poise was less a pose, the result of a new adjustment of values.
When they reached the street, he turned with Cobbens in the direction of his house, with an absent-minded though courteous good-night. Though the leaves of the elms had now in a large measure left the branches, the suggestion of a cathedral nave was still presented to the mind.
Unhappily for this hope, the supernumerary was not disposed to regard himself as such. He may have known that Cobbens would have left his hat outside had he intended to remain, but at all events, it needed only Miss Wycliffe's smile of welcome to justify him in taking the chair beside her.
In a way they were all sharers in the humiliation of Cobbens, and co-recipients of the people's scorn. He saw Felicity and Mrs. Parr putting their heads together in whispered comment. The bishop stirred uneasily and glanced with irritation at the speaker's back, as if he would fain have bid him make an end. In a moment of pardonable weakness the mayor's lips parted in the briefest of smiles.
Cobbens," she cried gaily, "I believe you were bent on breaking our necks!" "I 'm for walking home," came a man's voice. There were no students' rooms directly over them, but to the north and south windows were flung open and heads peered curiously forth. "Hush!" said another of the party. "Don't wake up the children."
About two hours later, Leigh descended from the billiard-room, where he had been playing an inattentive and indifferent game with one of his colleagues, and encountered Bishop Wycliffe coming into the hall from the library in company with his host and Anthony Cobbens.
This street, because of its width, the absence of car-tracks, and its comparative freedom from heavy traffic, was often the scene of races in the winter, and now he saw a group of sleighs ready for the start. As the bunch drew away, his own horse came abreast of the others, and without prearrangement he found himself racing side by side with Anthony Cobbens. "Well met, Mr.
"Such an impersonal attitude is wont to be claimed by men as their own peculiar possession." Her smile disclaimed exceptional credit. "I 'm not a bit impersonal, I assure you. I can't abide Judge Swigart, or his political lieutenant, Anthony Cobbens, a turkey gobbler and a wretched little weasel, even though we are the best of friends." "I see," he said, greatly diverted by her admission.
There seemed a fatality in the coincidence that he and Cobbens should cross each other's path twice in the same day, when often they did not meet for a fortnight. As Lena Harpster drank her coffee and noted her lover's increasing uneasiness, she gave no sign of her resentment, part of which was due to the unwillingness of a sensuous nature to leave a warm corner by the fire on a winter night.
I want you to know how much less cause you have to throw me over in this way than you think. I want you to forgive me, and to keep your promise. She's nothing to me nothing. She 's no more to me than any one of the dozen men you 've been running around with are to you, Cobbens, for example, or that young professor up at the Hall."
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