Miss Crew entered, robed for the winter streets. "Good-bye, Mrs. Gower; I shall not be late."
"Au revoir; give Mrs. Tremaine my love; and say, as the Dales may return from New York this evening, I found it impossible to leave; and be sure and wear your over-shoes: our streets are in their usual winter break-neck condition. I do hope the new Council will enforce the by-law."
"I hope so, too; I had an awful fall the other day; the city treasury would be overflowing did they collect the fines," she said, going out; when, at the hall door, she returned, saying hurriedly, "Oh, here is the English newspaper you were looking for, Mrs. Gower; it was upstairs."
"Thank you, good-bye."
Having made a note of the clergyman's name at Bayswater, and become conversant with the news in the city papers, she gave herself up, in the gloaming, to quiet thought.
"Yes, I like him very much, there is a manly, straightforwardness in his words; a steadfastness of purpose in his honest blue eyes; a firmness in the lines of the mouth, with a kindliness of manner; all stamping him as a man whose friendship would be true, whose love faithful; how strange, that at last I should meet him at the house of a mutual friend. Mr. St. Clair tells me he has known him for years, and the Tremaines since summer; had any one told me two weeks ago, that I should sing 'Hunting Tower' with him in ten days, at the St. Clairs', I should have thought them romancing. He has a sweet tenor voice, he asked me if he might call; how pleasant it would be if he were here now. I used to wonder and wonder, in meeting him so frequently at lectures, concerts, or in the cars, and walking about, what his name was. Now, Alexander Blair has come to me; and his tenderness to the little veiled lady, who was, I suppose, consumptive, by the slow way they walked. I wonder where she is, I never see her now: his care for her touched my heart.
"I am so glad he has come into my life: I feel lonely at times; and he is so companionable, I know. What dependent creatures we are, after all—houses and lands, robes a la mode, even, don't suffice. Intercourse we must have.
"But," and a shudder ran through her, "what a desolate fate mine will be if Philip Cobbe will persist in keeping me to my oath. We have not much in common: he is kind, but neither firm nor steadfast, and now this woman comes between us; and what would she not do were I his wife? As it is, I live in daily dread of her doing something desperate. It was enough to terrify any woman similarly situated, the way in which she acted that Sunday evening, coming from church; and again, that night at the Rogers' meeting in the Pavilion. A ring! Can it be the Dales? No, it is Philip; I wonder what mood he is in."
"Alone! for a wonder," he said, warmly. "Leave the gas alone, Thomas, the firelight is sufficient." "And thinking of me, and wishing for me," he said, as the servant left the room. "Yes, I can tell by your eyes."
"There Philip, that will do, I am actually afraid to have you in my house. Remember that woman last night! if looks could kill, then would I have been slain," she said, tremblingly.