Again he was
cordial. So firmly had I kept the reins of the whole affair in my
grasp, such prestige he knew it would give me, he dared not broach his
grievance.
Some half-remembered American phrase of Cousin Egbert's ran in my
mind. I had put a buffalo on him!
"Thank you," I said, "I'm needing a bit of a stretch and a
breeze-out."
I wished to walk that I might the better meditate. With
Belknap-Jackson one does not sufficiently meditate.
A block up from the station I was struck by the sight of the
Honourable George. Plodding solitary down that low street he was,
heeled as usual by the Judson cur. He came to the Spilmer public house
and for a moment stared up, quite still, at the "Last Chance" on its
chaffing signboard. Then he wheeled abruptly and entered. I was moved
to follow him, but I knew it would never do. He would row me about the
service of the Grill--something of that sort. I dare say he had
fancied her ladyship as keenly as one of his volatile nature might.
But I knew him!
Back on our street the festival atmosphere still lingered. Groups of
recent guests paused to discuss the astounding event. The afternoon
paper was being scanned by many of them. An account of the wedding was
its "feature," as they say. I had no heart for that, but on the second
page my eye caught a minor item:
"A special meeting of the Ladies Onwards and Upwards Club is
called for to-morrow afternoon at two sharp at the residence
of Mrs.
Pages:
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438