United States or Cook Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I wonder how long this business is going to last? I wish to God I'd never stayed." He leaned back against the chimney-piece, grinding his heels on the fender in his irritation. "I was a fool not to get away in the morning when I had the chance." He looked up and saw Stanistreet regarding him with a curiously critical expression.
He had caught sight of an enormous bunch of hothouse flowers in a vase on the floor by the writing-table. Stanistreet's card was in the midst of the bunch, and a note from Stanistreet lay open on the writing-table. There was an ominous pause while Tyson read it. It was curt enough; only an offer of flowers and a ticket for the "Lyceum."
The selection was another freak; it was the first time Louis had heard her sing that song since they left Thorneytoft. This is what she sang; but Louis only came in for the last two verses. That was the sort of song Tyson liked; and well, as Mrs. Nevill sang it, Stanistreet liked it too. And Stanistreet was not in the least musical.
Once she looked piteously at Stanistreet. Her fingers trembled so that she could not fasten her cloak, her gloves. He helped her. A weird little ghost of a smile fluttered to her lips and vanished. They hurried out at last along empty passages. Tyson was nowhere to be seen. They drove quickly home. At the corner of Francis Street the hansom drew up with a jerk and waited. A crowd blocked the way.
But while there is life there is hope." "If there is danger " she paused, looking away toward the long highroad, "if there is danger, I shall send for Nevill. He will come." She telegraphed: "Baby dangerously ill. Come at once." She waited feverishly for an answer. There was none. To the horror of the household, she gave orders that when Captain Stanistreet called she would see him.
Here they were forestalled. Before it could come to his turn the thoughtful Pinker gave notice. His example was followed by Swinny the virtuous. Swinny, as it happened, was a niece of Farmer Ashby's, the same who saw Stanistreet driving with his arm round Mrs.
Consequently he was more than a little surprised when Stanistreet, without any greeting or formality whatsoever, took two letters from his pocket and flung one of them on the window-seat. "That's your letter," he said. "And here's the answer." He laid Molly's little note down beside it. Tyson stared at the letters rather stupidly. That correspondence was one of the details he had forgotten.
Tyson was a master of the graceful art of symbolism, and Stanistreet had caught the trick from him. At the present moment he would have given a great deal to know how much of all this was a mere playing with words. There was a sound of hurrying feet in the room upstairs, and the two men held their breath. Tyson was the first to recover. "Good God, Stanistreet, how white you are!
He did not stir, and she laid him on his back again and looked at him. His lips and the hollows under his eyes were blue. The collapse had come. Louis knelt down and put his hand over the tiny heart. A spasm passed over the baby's face, simulating a smile. Then Mrs. Nevill Tyson fell to smiling too. "See" she said. But Stanistreet had seen enough. He rose from his knees and left her.
Stanistreet frowned and champed the ends of his mustache. This was not at all the mood he desired to find her in. "Don't be cynical," said he; "it's not like you."
Word Of The Day