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Updated: May 7, 2025
Adding gave one of her pealing laughs, while Rose watched March's face with grave sympathy. "He certainly doesn't deserve one. Don't let us keep you from offering Miss Triscoe any consolation you can." They got up, and the boy gathered up the gloves, umbrella, and handkerchief which the ladies let drop from their laps. "Have you been telling?" March asked his wife.
He hesitated to take it, but he asked at last with a mildness that seemed to surprise her, "Have you heard anything from him since?" "No." "Where is he?" "I don't know. I told him I could not say what he wished; that I must tell you about it." The case was less simple than it would once have been for General Triscoe.
No, I'm all for Miss Triscoe, and I hope that now, if she's taken herself off our hands, she'll keep off." "It's altogether likely that he's made her promise not to tell me anything about it," Mrs. March mused aloud. "That would be unjust to a person who had behaved so discreetly as you have," said her husband.
He stared round for a table; they were all taken, and he could not refuse the interest Burnamy made with the waiters to bring them one and crowd it in. He had to ask him to sup with them, and Burnamy sat down and heard the concert through beside Miss Triscoe. "What is so tremendously amusing in a pair of stork-scissors?" March demanded, when his wife and he were alone.
"It's disgusting," said his wife; and at this General Triscoe, who had been watching the actress through his lorgnette, said, as if his contrary-mindedness were irresistibly invoked: "Well, I don't know. It's amusing. Do you suppose we shall see her when we go behind, March?" He still professed a desire to do so when the curtain fell, and they hurried to the rear door of the theatre.
He really preferred the study of Stoller, whose instinct of a greater worldly quality in the Triscoes interested him; he could see him listening now to what General Triscoe was saying to Mrs. March, and now to what Burnamy was saying to Miss Triscoe; his strong, selfish face, as he turned it on the young people, expressed a mingled grudge and greed that was very curious.
I'm opposed to private war as much as I am to free trade." "It all comes round to the same thing at last," said General Triscoe. "Your precious humanity " "Oh, I don't claim it exclusively," March protested. "Well, then, our precious humanity is like a man that has lost his road. He thinks he is finding his way out, but he is merely rounding on his course, and coming back to where he started."
Stoller had scarcely spoken yet; he now startled them all by demanding, with a sort of vindictive force, "Why shouldn't he have the power, if they're willing to let him?" "Yes," said General Triscoe, with a tilt of his head towards March. "That's what we must ask ourselves more and more." March leaned back in his chair, and looked up over his shoulder at Stoller. "Well, I don't know.
I feel differently about it myself perhaps because I fought for it." At first, the others were glad of this arrogance; it even seemed an answer; but Burnamy saw Miss Triscoe's cheek, flush, and then he doubted its validity. Triscoe nervously crushed a biscuit in his hand, as if to expend a violent impulse upon it. He said, coldly, "I was speaking from that stand-point."
They might have been carried near this point by those telepathic influences which have as yet been so imperfectly studied. It was only that morning, after the lapse of a week since Burnamy's furtive reappearance in Carlsbad, that Miss Triscoe spoke to her father about it, and she had at that moment a longing for support and counsel that might well have made its mystical appeal to Mrs. March.
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