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"It'll take a little time to draw up the writings." "But you can send word to Mr. Hilary at once?" Suzette asked. "Oh, yes; if you wish." "I do." "It won't be necessary." "I wish it." Since the affair must so soon be known to everybody, Putney felt justified in telling his wife when he went home. "If that poor old girl freely consented, it must have been at the point of the hairpin.
If I can do anything for you, a message will reach me there." "Humph," said the Honourable Hilary, while the others exchanged significant glances. Austen had not gone half the length of the hall when he was overtaken by Mr. Tooting. "Say, Aust, what's up between you and Redbrook?" he asked. "Nothing. Why?" Austen asked, stopping abruptly.
Hilary lay, back among the pillows, and the brightness of that autumn noonday only served to accentuate the pallor of his face, the ravages of age which had come with such incredible swiftness, and the outline of a once vigorous frame. The eyes alone shone with a strange new light, and Austen found it unexpectedly difficult to speak.
"In the years I've lived with Hilary Vane I've seen enough of politicians, goodness knows. I never want to see another." "If Austen was governor, we'd change some of that. But mind, Euphrasia, this is a secret," said Tom, raising a warning finger. "If Austen hears about it now, the jig's up." Euphrasia considered and thawed a little.
A week after his conversation with Austen, on the return of his emperor from a trip to New York, the Honourable Hilary was summoned again to the foot of the throne, and his thoughts as he climbed the ridges towards Fairview were not in harmony with the carols of the birds in the depths of the forest and the joy of the bright June weather.
Wilton and Bentley had come aft in great anxiety, and the whole crew were looking eagerly at them, attracted by the aroused voices and the passionate attitude of the two men. For a moment the chase was forgotten. "Oh, Hilary," said Philip, addressing his friend. "Hush, Philip, this man insults your sister. I am defending her honor."
Here was the doctor, with his case; here was this extraordinary housekeeper, apparently ready to let Hilary walk to the square, if he wished, and to shut the door on their backs; and here was Hilary himself, who threatened at any moment to make his word good and depart from their midst.
The old man, known to that low class of fellow with whom he was now condemned to associate as "Westminister," was taking a whiff or two out of his old clay pipe, and trying to forget his feet. He saw Hilary coming, and carefully extended a copy of the last edition. "Good-evenin', sir! Quite seasonable to-day for the time of year! Ho, yes! 'Westminister!" His eyes followed Hilary's retreat.
"I don't know what you mean," said Hilary Vance, frowning. "That's the worst of it! That's why it's so hopeless!" said the Honourable John Ruffin in a tone of deep depression. "What do you mean?" cried Hilary Vance in sudden bellow. "Good-bye, old chap; good-bye," said the Honourable John Ruffin in the most mournful tone and with the most mournful air. "I can not save you.
An oil painting of the prominent men gathered about the marble-topped table in the centre of the room, with an outline key beneath it, would have been an appropriate work of art to hang in the state-house, as emblematic of the statesmanship of the past twenty years. The Honourable Hilary Vane sat at one end in a padded chair; Mr.
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