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Updated: June 29, 2025
Some purchases that he had made in London especially the great work on French cathedrals were already despatched to Birmingham, to lie in the care of Robert Narramore. He reached Charing Cross half an hour before train-time, and waited at the entrance. Several cabs that drove up stirred his expectation only to disappoint him. He was again in an anguish of fear lest Eve should not come.
Well, hadn't I a right to do so?" "Of course you had," Patty replied, with emphasis. "And she knew it must come. She never really thought that she could marry Mr. Narramore. She gave him no promise." "Only corresponded with him, and made appointments with him, and allowed him to feel sure that she would be his wife." "Eve has behaved very strangely. I can't understand her.
All his possessions, save the articles of clothing which he would carry with him, were packed in a couple of trunks, to be sent on the morrow to Birmingham, where they would lie in the care of his friend Narramore.
Narramore and the architect delayed only for a meal, and pursued their journey homeward; Hilliard returned to his old quarters despatched a post-card asking Eve and Patty to dine with him that evening, and thereupon went to bed, where for some eight hours he slept the sleep of healthy fatigue. The place he had appointed for meeting with the girls was at the foot of the Boulevard St. Michel.
"Because, in the end, it might be troublesome to me." Hilliard kept silence awhile, then laughed. When he spoke again, it was of things indifferent natures. Laziest of men and worst of correspondents, Robert Narramore had as yet sent no reply to the letters in which Hilliard acquainted him with his adventures in London and abroad; but at the end of July he vouchsafed a perfunctory scrawl.
I've seen so much of women suffering from poverty that it has got me into the habit of thinking of them as nothing but burdens to a man." "As they nearly always are." "Yes, nearly always." Narramore pondered with his amiable smile; the other, after a moment's gloom, shook himself free again, and talked with growing exhilaration of the new life that had dawned before him.
Her lips closed tightly, and she tapped with her foot on the floor. "Did she say that the other thing was also impossible to marry Narramore?" "She thinks it is, after what you've told him." "Well, now, as a matter of fact I told him nothing." Patty stared, a new light in her eyes. "You told him nothing?" "I just let him suppose that I had never heard the girl's name before."
But it amazes me that he can be content to go back to Birmingham and his brass bedsteads. Sheer lack of energy, I suppose. He'll grow dreadfully fat, I fear, and by when he becomes really a rich man it's awful to think of." Eve asked many questions about Narramore; his image gave mirthful occupation to her fancy.
"Only one, after all." "Do you mean that you will let her marry Mr. Narramore?" Patty asked with interest. "We shall have to talk about that." "If I were you I should never see her again!" "The probability is that we shall see each other many a time." "Then you haven't much courage, Mr. Hilliard!" exclaimed the girl, with a flush on her cheeks.
"I should like to know," said Hilliard, whose excitement had passed and left him cold. "And I should like to know who told you before that I was in the habit of getting drunk?" "Are you drunk now, or not?" "Not in the way you mean. Do you happen to know a man called Narramore?" "Never heard the name." Hilliard felt ashamed of his ignoble suspicion. He became silent.
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