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Every one else had the same standpoint, spoke the same language, drew on the same stock of allusions, used the same weights and measures in estimating persons and actions. Between Mr. Langhope's indolent acuteness of mind and the rudimentary processes of the rosy Telfers there was a difference of degree but not of kind. If Mr.
"We, I mean, who believe...that not one sparrow falls to the ground...." He flushed, and went on in a more mundane tone: "I am glad you have the hope of Mr. Langhope's arrival to keep you up. Modern science thank heaven! can do such wonders in sustaining and prolonging life that, even if there is little chance of recovery, the faint spark may be nursed until...."
It seemed to him but a part of the ingenious system of evasion whereby a society bent on the undisturbed pursuit of amusement had contrived to protect itself from the intrusion of the disagreeable: a policy summed up in Mr. Langhope's concluding advice that Amherst should take his wife away.
The agitated, decentralized life of the older woman seemed futile and trivial to Justine; but on Mr. Langhope's account she wished to keep up an appearance of friendship with his friend, and the same motive doubtless inspired Mrs. Ansell. Just now, at any rate, Justine was grateful for her attentions, and glad to go about with her. Anything anything to get away from her own thoughts!
Langhope's feelings on the duty of making the Westmore madeira circulate with the sun that the change was manifest only in his evening-dress, and in the fact of his sitting at the foot of the table. If Amherst was conscious of the contrast thus implied, it was only as a restriction on his freedom.
To extenuate her act to give you her version, because she feared his might be worse? Do you gather that that was her motive?" It was Mr. Langhope's turn to hesitate. He furrowed the thick Turkey rug with the point of his ebony stick, pausing once or twice to revolve it gimlet-like in a gap of the pile. "Not her avowed motive, naturally." "Well at least, then, let me have that."
Langhope's lameness as to his daughter's nerves, had proposed to turn back with him and drive to Mrs. Amherst's, where he might leave her to call while the others were completing their rounds. It was one of Mrs. Ansell's gifts to detect the first symptoms of ennui in her companions, and produce a remedy as patly as old ladies whisk out a scent-bottle or a cough-lozenge; and Mr.
Langhope's party had left Mount Desert but three days previously, the arrival of the unknown at Hanaford showed a singular impatience to rejoin Miss Brent. As he reached this point in his meditations, Amherst found himself at the street-corner where it was his habit to pick up the Westmore trolley.
"I believe my mother expects the whole party," Amherst replied, shaking hands with the false bonhomie of the man entrapped. "How delightful! And it's so nice to think that Mr. Langhope's arrangement with Justine still works so well," Mrs. Dressel hastened on, nervously hoping that her volubility would smother any recollection of what he had chanced to overhear. "Mr.
"She guards her carefully, at any rate. I could find out nothing." "About Bessy?" "About the general situation." "Including Miss Brent?" Mrs. Ansell smiled faintly. "I made one little discovery about her." "Well?" "She's intimate with the new doctor." "Wyant?" Mr. Langhope's interest dropped. "What of that? I believe she knew him before." "I daresay.
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