[CHAPTER XXIX]
Two days after Edward's conviction, when we were all getting a little accustomed to his loss, Miriam and I had spent an hour of the afternoon in her garden, laying plans for our now fast-approaching elopement, and had just left it when Mollie came running towards us with the news that Herman and Amelia had come to tea, and wanted to see us both.
I always felt a little uneasy at the thought of Herman Eppstein, and as in two days' time he was to sell my holding in Mount Lebanons, I thought that he might have come to say something to me about them.
I was determined, however, that he should not say it in the drawing-room, if I could possibly help it. Directly we went in, I began to talk about Edward, and about the exciting things that were happening generally, and so infected the rest with my loquacity that they all became loquacious too, and we made an animated party. Mr. Perry was there, which was somewhat unusual, but since Edward's departure he had been about the house a good deal, and seemed to find it restful.
I saw very plainly, though, that Eppstein was dying to bring out some news, and only awaited a lull in the conversation to do so. I was also doubtful whether his wife did not know as much about Mount Lebanons as he did, for her eye was often fixed upon me with a curious expression. She took her full share in the conversation, but I could see that she would make no effort to prolong it if it flagged of its own accord. I tried to make signs to Eppstein, but he either couldn't or wouldn't understand them, and presently I had to resign myself to some ultimate revelation.
Just as I thought, and the Eppsteins must also have thought, that this time had come, there was a diversion. I heard a ring at the front door bell, and heard Blother and Lord Arthur go across the hall to answer it. I exerted myself to give the talk another fillip, until the caller, if there was one, should arrive, and breathed again when the door was flung open and Mr. Blother's sonorous voice announced a name. But when I heard that name my spirit sank again.
The visitor was Mr. Hobson, and he came into the room with a wild and disordered air, which changed to one of menace as, without even greeting Mrs. Perry, he pointed at me and cried: "Deceiver! You are not what you pretend to be!"
Few deceivers are; and my conscience was not wholly clear. But I was, at any rate, unconscious of having done Mr. Hobson any harm, and asked him, in some surprise, what complaint he had against me.