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Updated: May 4, 2025
We'll bid you good morning, ladies," said William Henshaw then, decisively. And Billy, with a little wistful pat on Mrs. Greggory's clasped hands, went. Once down the long four flights of stairs and out on the sidewalk, William Henshaw drew a long breath. "Well, by Jove! Billy, the next time I take you curio hunting, it won't be to this place," he fumed. "Wasn't it awful!" choked Billy. "Awful!
He told himself, sometimes, that this helping another man to fight his tiger skin was assisting himself to fight his own. Arkwright was trying very hard not to think of Alice Greggory these days. He had come back hoping that he was in a measure "cured" of his "folly," as he termed it; but the first look into Alice Greggory's blue-gray eyes had taught him the fallacy of that idea.
It was true, then. The man did believe she cared for him, and he had been trying to teach her to save her. To teach her! To save her, indeed! Very well, he should see! And forthwith, from that moment, Alice Greggory's chief reason for living became to prove to Mr. M. J. Arkwright that he needed not to teach her, to save her, nor yet to sympathize with her.
Arkwright was very kind, and a gentleman, always," interposed the lady, coldly; "but Judge Greggory's daughter would not allow herself to be placed where apologies for her father would be necessary ever! There, please, dear Miss Neilson, let us not talk of it any more," begged Mrs. Greggory, brokenly. "No, indeed, of course not!" cried Billy; but her heart rejoiced. She understood it all now.
"Of course she took cold standing all those hours in that horrid wind, Friday!" cried Billy, indignantly. A quick red flew to Alice Greggory's face. Billy saw it at once and fervently wished she had spoken of anything but that Friday afternoon. It looked almost as if she were reminding them of what she had done that day.
Surprising as was the quick transition in the girl's manner, and absurd as was the juxtaposition of automobiles and red flannel petticoats, the white misery of Alice Greggory's face and the weary despair of her attitude were tragic specially to one who knew her story as did Billy Neilson. And it was because Billy did know her story that she did not make the mistake now of offering pity.
She could not forget Arkwright's face that day at the Annex, when she had so foolishly called his attention to Calderwell's devotion; and she could not forget, either, Alice Greggory's very obvious perturbation a little later, and her suspiciously emphatic assertion that she had no intention of marrying any one, certainly not Arkwright.
How much longer when will they let you in?" demanded Billy, raising indignant eyes to the huge, gray-pillared building before her, much as if she would pull down the walls if she could, and make way for this tired girl at her side. Miss Greggory's thin shoulders rose and fell in an expressive shrug. "Half-past one." Billy gave a dismayed cry. "Half-past one almost two hours more!
Leaving the maid on the top stair of the fourth flight, Billy tapped at Mrs. Greggory's door. To her joy Mrs. Greggory herself answered the knock. "Oh! Why why, good morning," murmured the lady, in evident embarrassment. "Won't you come m?" "Thank you. May I? just a minute?" smiled Billy, brightly. As she entered the room, Billy threw a hasty look about her.
"If you'll forgive the unforgivable," she read "you'll forgive me for not being here when you come down. 'Circumstances over which I have no control have called me away. May we let it go at that? As Alice Greggory's amazed, questioning eyes left the note they fell upon the long white glove on the floor by the door.
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