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In front was an old hedger and ditcher, who came round the parish periodically, and never failed to take Elsmere's opinion as to 'a bit of prapperty' he and two other brothers as ancient as himself had been quarrelling over for twenty years, and were likely to go on quarrelling over, till all three litigants had closed their eyes on a mortal scene which had afforded them on the whole vast entertainment, though little pelf.
"Why don't we go out to lunch somewhere?" Hedger asked, and began to dust his fingers with a handkerchief which he got out of sight as swiftly as possible. "All right, the Brevoort," she said carelessly. "I think that's a good place, and they have good wine. I don't care for cocktails." Hedger felt his chin uneasily. "I'm afraid I haven't shaved this morning.
"Why don't you paint the kind of pictures people can understand, and then, after you're successful, do whatever you like?" "As I look at it," said Hedger brusquely, "I am successful." Eden glanced about. "Well, I don't see any evidences of it," she said, biting her lip. "He has a Japanese servant and a wine cellar, and keeps a riding horse." Hedger melted a little.
Finally, in extreme impatience, he walked up to the group of spectators. They were all, and Andrew Hedger among them, the most entranced and profoundly reverent, observing the dissection of a pig. Unable to awaken his hearing, Redworth jogged his arm, and the shake was ineffective until it grew in force. 'I've no time to lose; have they told you the way? Andrew Hedger yielded his arm.
After lunch Hedger strolled about the Square for the dog's health and watched the stages pull out; that was almost the very last summer of the old horse stages on Fifth Avenue.
Behind the Square, Hedger and his dog descended into a basement oyster house where there were no tablecloths on the tables and no handles on the coffee cups, and the floor was covered with sawdust, and Caesar was always welcome, not that he needed any such precautionary flooring. All the carpets of Persia would have been safe for him.
The balloonist acknowledged these compliments, bowing and looking down over the sea of upturned faces, but Hedger was determined she should not see him, and he darted behind the tent-fly. He was suddenly dripping with cold sweat, his mouth was full of the bitter taste of anger and his tongue felt stiff behind his teeth.
The excitement and bravado and uncertainty of that long day and night seemed all at once to tell upon her. When his feet were on the carpet and he reached up to lift her down, she twined her arms about his neck as after a long separation, and turned her face to him, and her lips, with their perfume of youth and passion. One Saturday afternoon Hedger was sitting in the window of Eden's music room.
Andrew Hedger repeated that it was The Crossways house, ne'er a doubt. Redworth paid him his expected fee, whereupon Andrew, shouldering off, wished him a hearty good night, and forthwith departed at high pedestrian pace, manifestly to have a concluding look at the beloved anatomy. There stood the house. Absolutely empty! thought Redworth.
It was done in so imperceptible, fatherly, a manner that you never felt offended. He did it, too, with so much art that nobody but your own guilty self knew that you were the sinner he was exhorting. Yet he did not spare rich nor poor: he preached at the squire, and that great fat farmer, Mr. Bullock, the churchwarden, as boldly as at Hodge the ploughman and Scrub the hedger. As for Mr.
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