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Meader being now the only invalid there, he heard a sound which made him pause in the doorway. The sound was feminine laughter of a musical quality that struck pleasantly on Austen's ear. Miss Victoria Flint was sated beside Mr. Meader's bed, and qualified friendship had evidently been replaced by intimacy since Austen's last visit, for Mr. Meader was laughing, too.
As his convalescence progressed, Austen Vane fell into the habit of dropping in from time to time to chat with him, and gradually was rewarded by many vivid character sketches of Mr. Meader's neighbours in Mercer and its vicinity. One afternoon, when Austen came into the ward, he found at Mr.
She glanced at him. "It was courageous of you," she said. "I have never looked upon it in that light," he answered. "May I ask you how you heard of it?" She coloured, but faced the question. "I heard it from my father, at first, and I took an interest on Zeb Meader's account," she added hastily. Austen was silent.
A young woman, surrounded as she was, could be expected to know little of the subtleties of business and political morality: let him take Zeb Meader's case, and her loyalty would naturally be with her father, if she thought of Austen Vane at all.
Meader being now the only invalid there, he heard a sound which made him pause in the doorway. The sound was feminine laughter of a musical quality that struck pleasantly on Austen's ear. Miss Victoria Flint was sated beside Mr. Meader's bed, and qualified friendship had evidently been replaced by intimacy since Austen's last visit, for Mr. Meader was laughing, too.
Austen was silent, for the true significance of this apparently obscure damage case to the Northeastern Railroads was beginning to dawn on him. The public was not in the best of humours towards railroads: there was trouble about grade crossings, and Mr. Meader's mishap and the manner of his rescue by the son of the corporation counsel had given the accident a deplorable publicity.
"And did you tell Zeb?" asked Austen. "Yes," Victoria admitted, "but I'm sorry I did, now." "What did Zeb say?" Victoria laughed in spite of herself, and gave a more or less exact though kindly imitation of Mr. Meader's manner. "He said that wimmen-folks had better stick to the needle and the duster, and not go pokin' about law business that didn't concern 'em.
As his convalescence progressed, Austen Vane fell into the habit of dropping in from time to time to chat with him, and gradually was rewarded by many vivid character sketches of Mr. Meader's neighbours in Mercer and its vicinity. One afternoon, when Austen came into the ward, he found at Mr.
She glanced at him. "It was courageous of you," she said. "I have never looked upon it in that light," he answered. "May I ask you how you heard of it?" She coloured, but faced the question. "I heard it from my father, at first, and I took an interest on Zeb Meader's account," she added hastily. Austen was silent.
A young woman, surrounded as she was, could be expected to know little of the subtleties of business and political morality: let him take Zeb Meader's case, and her loyalty would naturally be with her father, if she thought of Austen Vane at all.
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