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Miss Vickers's' abstraction, however, lasted but three days. On the fourth she was herself again, and, having spent the day in hard work, dressed herself with unusual care in the evening and went out. The evening was fine and the air, to one who had been at work indoors all day, delightful.
Here's a steamer!" Chatfield, his arms filled with masses of dried bracken and coarse grass, turned sharply on hearing Vickers's call and stared hard and long in the direction which the young solicitor pointed out.
He knew her at once. She was Sarah Purfoy, Mrs. Vickers's maid, but he never had been so close to her before; and it seemed to him that he was in the presence of some strange tropical flower, which exhaled a heavy and intoxicating perfume. For an instant the two looked at each other, and then Rufus Dawes was seized from behind by his collar, and flung with a shock upon the deck.
"Delia and I have been tramping the Louvre," Vickers remarked. "That's the way we are learning history." Isabelle glanced about the forlorn little sitting-room of the third-class hotel. "Why did you come here?" "It does well enough, and it's near the Louvre and places.... It is very reasonable." Then Isabelle remembered what Fosdick had said about Vickers's gift of half his fortune to Mrs. Conry.
Vickers idolized little Sylvia, and when the recommendation of a long sea-voyage for his failing health induced him to exchange into the th, he insisted upon bringing the child with him, despite Mrs. Vickers's reiterated objections on the score of educational difficulties. "He could educate her himself, if need be," he said; "and she should not stay at home." So Mrs.
You're wasting time." "I don't want none o' your talk," said his disappointed friend. "If you ain't careful I'll tell Selina about you going up to her papers." The smile faded from Mr. Vickers's face. "Don't make mischief, Bill," he said, uneasily. "Well, don't you try and make fun o' me," said Mr. Russell, ferociously. "Taking the pledge is 'ard enough to bear without having remarks from you."
And suddenly she saw how dead it all was: not merely her feeling for Cairy, but her whole past, the petty things clone or felt by that petty other self, ending with the tragic fact of Vickers's sacrifice.
The children went by with little set, important faces; but Miss Vickers's little bows and pleased smiles of recognition to acquaintances were so lady-like that several untidy matrons retired inside their houses to wrestle grimly with feelings too strong for outside display. "Pack o' prancing peacocks," said the unnatural Mr. Vickers, as the procession wound round the corner.
"Plenty in the cask, sir," said Mr. Tasker, reluctantly. "Well, keep your eye on it," said the captain. "Good morning, Mr. Vickers." But disappointment and indignation got the better of Mr. Vickers's politeness. "Penny for your thoughts, uncle," said Miss Drewitt, as they sat at dinner an hour or two after the departure of Mr. Vickers. "H'm?" said the captain, with a guilty start.
Ask 'er to go for a walk; that'll please Selina. I don't know what the gal does want. I thought turning teetotaler and setting a good example to you would do the trick, if anything would." Mrs. Vickers's utter astonishment next evening, when her husband asked her to go for a walk, irritated that gentleman almost beyond endurance.
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