“Don’t!” said Cally, recoiling instantly from she knew not what. “Don’t!...  I’m not brave—­at all! Oh, no—­that’s just it....”

And then, looking down, she added somewhat pitifully:  “But I really didn’t mean to do anything so bad....”

The alien turned hurriedly away.  He went without another word.

The front door shut upon him.  And Cally gave a little jump, hearing above her the imperious tread of her mother.

     XXI

     That Day at the Beach, as we sit and look back at it; how
     Hugo journeys to shield his Love from Harm, and Small
     Beginnings can end with Uproars and a Proverb.

Canning arrived at the House of Heth shortly after four.  He had had an all-day journey in summer heat, and a bad night preceding.  In the still watches following his ladies’ departure from New York, he had had time for calm reflection, nothing else but time; and the more he calmly reflected, the less could he understand his betrothed’s singular desire to pay this tribute to the dead.  The thing grew increasingly mystifying; increasingly unorthodox and undependable, too.  Moreover, the second thought reproached him that, Carlisle being so greatly upset, however unreasonably, he himself should have accompanied her homeward, in her most need to go by her side.  And thinking these things, the disturbed young man had tumbled out of bed in the small hours, to make inquiries regarding trains.

He was received at the House by his future mother-in-law, who was once more the accredited intermediary.  Canning was hot, sooty, and suffering from want of sleep.  There were cinders down the back of his neck.  Mrs. Heth had Moses prepare for him a long iced drink, with rime on the glass and fragrant mint atop.  And then, as the prize of her lifetime sat and sipped, she seated herself beside him, her strong voice trembling....

All hope of discreet reticence was now ripped to shreds.  What chance remained of rescuing the name of Heth from the scandalous horrors of a suicide lay all in arousing this stalwart man to the imminence of the common peril.  Mrs. Heth, somersaulting without hesitancy from last night’s caution, flooded the dark places with lurid light.

Canning listened with consternation and chagrin.  His moral sensibilities, indeed, received no particular shock, since Mrs. Heth’s narrative frankly disclaimed any wrong-doing on Carlisle’s part, but attributed the misunderstanding to the excited gossip at the time.  And by the same token, he was not unduly perturbed over the girl’s hysterical ideas of her present duty.  What struck Canning most sharply, indeed, since he was human, was the personal side of the matter:  the stark fact that important developments touching Carlisle’s name and happiness had been running along for some time, wholly without his knowledge, but under the direct personal superintendency of another man, this Mr. Somebody’s unknown friend.  So extraordinary a course of behavior seemed to reveal a totally new side of his betrothed, hitherto unsuspected.  Canning would have been too saintly for this earth if he had not learned of these proceedings with the deepest surprise and vexation.