But Orpha was not of my mind. With a glance at Edgar as firm as it was considerate, she quietly said:
“You should allow yourself no privilege which you deny to Quenton. If for any reason you choose to leave us for purposes you do not wish to communicate, you must take him with you.”
The flush which this brought to his cheek was the first hint of color I had seen there since the evening began.
“This from you, Orpha?” he muttered. “You would place this stranger—”
“Where my father put him,—on a level with yourself. But why leave us, Edgar? Why not wait till the doctor comes?”
They were standing near each other but they now stepped closer.
Instinctively I turned my back. I even walked away from them. When I wheeled about again, I saw that they were both approaching me.
“I am going up with Edgar,” said she. “Will you sit in my place till I come back?”
“Gladly, Orpha.” But I wondered what took them above—something important I knew—and watched them with jealous eyes as in their ascent their bright heads came into view, now through one arch and now through another, till they finally emerged, he leading, she following, upon the gallery.
Here they paused to speak to Clarke and Wealthy. A word, and Clarke stepped back, allowing Wealthy to slip up ahead of them to the third floor.