“In the name of Heaven!” Mr. Woods demanded
of his soul, “what possible reason could
she have had for this new insanity? And in the
name of Heaven, why couldn’t she have put off
her tete-a-tete with Kennaston long enough
to explain? And in the name of Heaven, what does
she see to admire in that putty-faced, grimacing ass,
any way! And in the name of Heaven, what am I
to say to this poor, old man here? I can’t
explain that his daughter isn’t in any danger
of being poor, but merely of being locked up in jail!
And in the name of Heaven, how long does that outrageous
angel expect me to remain in this state of suspense!”
Billy groaned again and paced the vestibule.
Then he retraced his steps, shook hands with Colonel
Hugonin once more, and, Kennaston or no Kennaston,
set out to find her.
But when he came out upon the terrace, Sarah Ellen
Haggage stopped him—stopped him with a
queer blending of diffidence and resolve in her manner.
The others, by this, had disappeared in various directions,
puzzled and exceedingly uncertain what to do.
Indeed, to congratulate Billy in the Colonel’s
presence would have been tactless; and, on the other
hand, to condole with the Colonel without seeming to
affront the wealthy Mr. Woods was almost impossible.
So they temporised and fled—all save Mrs.
Haggage.
She, alone, remained to view Mr. Woods with newly
opened eyes; for as he paused impatiently—the
sculptured Eagle above his head—she perceived
that he was a remarkably handsome and intelligent young
man. Her motherly heart opened toward this lonely,
wealthy orphan.
“My dear Billy,” she cooed, with asthmatic
gentleness, “as an old, old friend of your mother’s,
aren’t you going to let me tell you how rejoiced
Adele and I are over your good fortune? It isn’t
polite, you naughty boy, for you to run away from
your friends as soon as they’ve heard this wonderful
news. Ah, such news it was—such a manifest
intervention of Providence! My heart has been
fluttering, fluttering like a little bird, Billy,
ever since I heard it.”
In testimony to this fact, Mrs. Haggage clasped a
stodgy hand to an exceedingly capacious bosom, and
exhibited the whites of her eyes freely. Her
smile, however, remained unchanged and ample.
“Er—ah—oh, yes! Very
kind of you, I’m sure!” said Mr. Woods.
“I never in my life saw Adele so deeply affected
by anything,” Mrs. Haggage continued,
with a certain large archness. “The sweet
child was always so fond of you, you know, Billy.
Ah, I remember distinctly hearing her speak of you
many and many a time when you were in that dear, delightful,
wicked Paris, and wonder when you would come back
to your friends—not very grand and influential
friends, Billy, but sincere, I trust, for all that.”
Mr. Woods said he had no doubt of it.
