"It's all right. I am glad you could say anything to please her."
Jean looked rather forlorn, not disposed to tears, but as if something had gone out of her existence, leaving a gap, and as if she did not know what to do next.
Mr. Trevelyan's "Come along!" was a relief. Nobody ever saw Mr. Trevelyan in doubt as to his next step.
"Where are you staying?" Jem asked, as they moved out of the station.
"Two streets off," Jean told him.
In some rooms, recommended by a friend. Jean herself would have liked the novelty of an hotel; but expense had to be considered: and daily table d'hôte was not in Madame Collier's line. She believed they would stay three more nights. Oswald was to have spent this day with them, and to have taken Jean after lunch to the Academy; but thus far he had failed to appear.
"I don't know how to manage, if he does not turn up," said Mr. Trevelyan. "I shall be engaged all the afternoon."
Jem offered himself promptly. If Oswald came not, he would be entirely at Jean's disposal.
"Thanks! Pity she should waste a whole afternoon indoors," said Mr. Trevelyan, after a moment's weighing of proprieties. "Yes—you are one of us—and a cousin too. I don't see why not."
"It is only carrying out my promise to Madame Collier. What shall we do, Jean? The Academy? No, you would rather keep that for Oswald. What do you say to a trip on the river—up to Richmond by steamboat?"