As they wait in front of the Dominion Bank, Mr. Cobbe joins them.
"Good morning, ladies; won't you turn west, and have a promenade, Elaine?"
"No, thank you. Time has gone too fast for us already."
"O, pshaw! I want to speak to you. When do you return to New York, Mrs. Dale?" he says pointedly; disliking her, and feeling freer at Holmnest in her absence.
"I have not the remotest idea, Mr. Cobbe, indeed," she added, in return for his; "we may take dear little Holmnest off Mrs. Gower's hands if she carries out her present intention to leave Canada for a time."
"Leave Canada!" he exclaims, flushing.
"Please, stop the car, Philip, quick."
"What does it mean, Elaine?" he whispers, seeing them on board; but the bell rings, and off they go. Two yards distant, and he calls out, "I shall be up after office hours."
"Talk of cruelty to animals. I gave him a blow, but he richly deserves it. But I do believe, Elaine, you are sorry for him," she says in amazement, and under cover of the noise of travel.
"I am. He is his worst enemy. Yes, I am sorry for his weak, vain nature. A man without stability of character, in our stirring times, is of no more account than are the soap-bubbles blown by a little child."