CHAPTER II.
Mauney Finds a Friend.
While Mauney waited the month for Lorna’s matrimonial verdict, he occupied himself chiefly with study and with more writing in his ledger. Whatever might be the true character of these flashing impressions which he jotted down, they had become an essential part of existence, for they came to him with imperativeness.
The alcove in the hallway upstairs was a good place to write. He found that he could arrange his thoughts better within earshot of other people talking than within the quietness of his own room. The dull, monotonous murmur of conversation from the dining room below had the peculiar effect of keeping him psychically in touch with humanity. The frequent selections of the gramophone music, with the sound of Gertrude’s feet slipping gracefully along the floor in the rhythm of a dance, or the voice of Fred Stalton singing some popular song to the gramophone’s accompaniment, reminded him that history was concerned with all people, that it was not a subject of mere academic interest, but of life and blood, of gaiety and despair, of every emotion that warmed or cooled the hearts of people. Freda MacDowell would often pass him, seated by the hall desk, on her way to her room, nodding with a friendly smile or indulging in a short word or two of conversation.
One evening she showed considerable interest in the subject of his labors, and excused herself for asking upon what he might be so assiduously bent.
“I’m afraid I’m wasting time, Miss MacDowell,” he said, looking up from his big volume. “It’s a hobby I have. Just scribbling down my impressions.”
“It doesn’t matter whether it’s waste time or not,” she said, “as long as you like doing it. I wish you’d loosen up a little, Mr. Bard, and invite me to read your stuff. Having seen you at work so constantly here every night, you can’t blame me for having a woman’s curiosity.”
“Nothing would suit me better,” he laughed. “If I had thought you would be interested I would have invited you long ago.”
He rose and indicated a chair near his own.