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Weguelin's beautiful eyes were resting upon me with that disapproval I had come to know. To her, sociology and evolution and all "isms" were new-fangled inventions and murky with offense; to touch them was defilement, and in disclosing them to John Mayrant I was a corrupter of youth. She gathered it all up into a word that was radiant with a kind of lovely maternal gentleness:
Not triangles and gongs, but rather strings and flutes, had been the music to which Kings Port society had attuned its measured voice. I saw it all, and even saw that my own dramatic sense of Mrs. Weguelin's dignity had perversely moved me to be more flippant than I actually felt; and I promised myself that a more chastened tone should forthwith redeem me from the false position I had got into.
Bohm, listening, and Charley, talking, had neither of them noticed Mrs. Weguelin's arrival; they stood ignoring her, while she waited, casting a timid eye upon them. But Beverly, suddenly perceiving this, and begging her pardon for them, brought the party together, and we moved in among the old graves.
And so, following the steps of our delicate and courteous guide, we entered into the dimness of the little building; and Mrs. Weguelin's voice, lowered to suit the sanctity which the place had for her, began to tell us very quietly and clearly the story of its early days.
"But she is undoubtedly very clever to come and see for herself," was Mrs. Weguelin's next comment. Mrs. Gregory's face, as she replied to her companion, took on a censorious and superior expression. "You'll remember, Julia, that I told Josephine St. Michael it was what they had to expect." "But it was not Josephine, my dear, who at any time approved of taking such a course.
"I can translate that last boy's language, but what did the other boy mean about a 'raid on Steel Preferred' if I've got the jargon right?" While I translated this for her, I felt again the disapproval in Mrs. Weguelin's dark eyes; and my sins for they were twofold were presently made clear to me by this lady. I laughed heartily. "Everything's mentioned!" The lady paused over my reply.
For during a pelting cold rainstorm, as I sat and shivered in a Royal Street car, waiting for it to start upon its north-bound course, the house-door opposite which we stood at the end of the track opened, and Mrs. Weguelin's head appeared, nodding to the conductor as she sent her black servant out with hot coffee for him!
I had not looked for precisely such a party as Mrs. Weguelin's invitation had gathered, nor could I imagine that she had fully understood herself what she was gathering; and this I intimated to Beverly Rodgers, saying: "Do you suppose, my friend, that she suspected the feather of the birds you flock with?" Beverly took it lightly. "Hang it, old boy, of course everybody can't be as nice as I am!"
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