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And the people of the hotel at her table, a half hour later, remarked how cheerful and amiable Mrs. Detlor was. But George Hagar saw that through the pretty masquerade there played a curious restlessness. That afternoon they went on the excursion to Rivers abbey Mrs. Detlor, Hagar, Baron, Richmond and many others. They were to return by moonlight.
I cannot think there will be anything but misery when he crosses my path." "That duel," he rejoined, the instinct of fairness natural to an honorable man roused in him; "did you ever hear more than one side of it?" "No; yet sometimes I have thought there might be more than one side. Fairfax Detlor was a coward; and whatever that other was," she nodded to the picture "he feared no man."
"Good-night" Her hand was swallowed in his firm clasp for a moment "God bless you, dear!" he added, then raised his hat quickly and was gone. "I must have reminded him of some one," the girl said to herself. "He said, 'God bless you, dear!" About that time Mrs. Detlor received a telegram from the doctor of a London hospital. It ran: Your husband here.
He was about to speak, but Baron, whose foible was hurriedly changing from one subject to another, pulled a letter out of his pocket and said: "But maybe this is of more importance to Mrs. Detlor than my foolishness. I won't ask you to read it. I'll tell you what's in it. But, first, it's supposed, isn't it, that her husband was drowned?" "Yes, off the coast of Madagascar.
Detlor sat up, pale, but smiling in a wan fashion. "I am all right now," she said. "It was silly of me let us go, dear," she added to the young girl; "I shall be better for the open air I have had a headache all morning. * No, please, don't accuse yourself, Mr. Baron, you are not at all to blame." "I wish that was all the bad news I have," said Baron to himself as Hagar showed Mrs.
But their host had made up his mind. He did not know whether Mrs. Detlor did or did not recognize the voice, but he felt that she did not wish the matter to go farther. The thing was irregular if he was a stranger, and if he were not a stranger it lay with Mrs. Detlor whether he should be discovered. There was a curious stillness in Mrs.
But insomuch as he was chastened of enthusiasm outwardly he was boyishly earnest inwardly. He was telling Mrs. Detlor of some incident he had seen in South Africa when sketching there for a London weekly, telling it graphically, incisively he was not fluent. He etched in speech; he did not paint. She looked up at him once or twice as if some thought was running parallel with his story.
The night was still, and the trees at the window gave forth a sound like the monotonous s-sh of rain. The chant continued for about a minute. While it lasted Mrs. Detlor sat motionless and her hands lay lightly on the shoulders of the young girl. Hagar dropped his foot on the floor at marching intervals by instinct he had caught at the meaning of the sounds. When the voice had finished, Mrs.
Detlor is going to sing." Baron sat down. There was an instant's pause, in which George Hagar, the host, felt a strong thrill of excitement. To him Mrs. Detlor seemed in a dream, though her lips still smiled and her eyes wandered pleasantly over the heads of the company. She was looking at none of them, but her body was bent slightly toward the window, listening with it, as the deaf and dumb do.
"I wish to heaven I could see how this will all end," he muttered. Then he joined Baron and Mildred Margrave. Telford and Mrs. Detlor passed out upon a little bridge spanning the stream, still not speaking. As if by mutual consent, they made their way up the bank and the hillside to the top of a pretty terrace, where was a rustic seat among the trees.
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