Chapter 9 - Page 2

quite all right a self-respecting girl like Ruth would have
waited for him over there."

I noted that they were already Ruth and Adelaide, but what I said
was: "Do you mean she'll have had to return to MAKE it so?"

"No, I mean that she must have come out for some reason independent
of it." Adelaide could only surmise, however, as yet, and there
was more, as we found, to be revealed. Mrs. Mulville, on hearing
of her arrival, had brought the young lady out in the green landau
for the Sunday. The Coxons were in possession of the house in
Regent's Park, and Miss Anvoy was in dreary lodgings. George
Gravener had been with her when Adelaide called, but had assented
graciously enough to the little visit at Wimbledon. The carriage,
with Mr. Saltram in it but not mentioned, had been sent off on some
errand from which it was to return and pick the ladies up.
Gravener had left them together, and at the end of an hour, on the
Saturday afternoon, the party of three had driven out to Wimbledon.
This was the girl's second glimpse of our great man, and I was
interested in asking Mrs. Mulville if the impression made by the
first appeared to have been confirmed. On her replying after
consideration, that of course with time and opportunity it couldn't
fail to be, but that she was disappointed, I was sufficiently
struck with her use of this last word to question her further.

"Do you mean you're disappointed because you judge Miss Anvoy to
be?"

"Yes; I hoped for a greater effect last evening. We had two or
three people, but he scarcely opened his mouth."

"He'll be all the better to-night," I opined after a moment. Then
I pursued: "What particular importance do you attach to the idea
of her being impressed?"

Adelaide turned her mild pale eyes on me as for rebuke of my
levity. "Why the importance of her being as happy as WE are!"

I'm afraid that at this my levity grew. "Oh that's a happiness
almost too great to wish a person!" I saw she hadn't yet in her
mind what I had in mine, and at any rate the visitor's actual bliss
was limited to a walk in the garden with Kent Mulville. Later in
the afternoon I also took one, and I saw nothing of Miss Anvoy till
dinner, at which we failed of the company of Saltram, who had
caused it to be reported that he was indisposed and lying down.
This made us, most of us--for there were other friends present--
convey to each other in silence some of the unutterable things that
in those years our eyes had inevitably acquired the art of
expressing. If a fine little American enquirer hadn't been there
we would have expressed them otherwise, and Adelaide would have
pretended not to hear. I had seen her, before the very fact,
abstract herself nobly; and