“I’m so sorry,” Lily said; and in spite of herself she said it absently; so that nothing could have been plainer than that her mind was not even upon this apology, but altogether upon the offence she had received from Mr. Henry Burnett.
A special attendant of the convalescent’s came from within the building and offered his arm. Young Mr. McArdle took it and gave a final glance at the flushed cheeks and fiery eyes of the lady who had already twice smitten him and thus smote him again. Something hot in his upper chest seemed to rise against this provincial and suburban young woman who was too busy being furious with a local nonentity to know what she was doing indeed! The affronted young man’s last word was to the chauffeur.
“When you have taken Miss Dodge home I sha’n’t want you until day-after-to-morrow. I don’t care to drive every day.”
Lily was borne away murmuring, “I’m sorry,” again, but what she thought was: “I could! I could wring Henry Burnett’s neck and sing for joy!”
. . . When the long red car drew up before her father’s house, there was another machine standing at the curb, a small black thing of the hardiest variety and odiously familiar to Lily. She jumped out, and, shaking with rage and her desire to express it, fairly ran up the brick walk to her front door.
But here a housemaid sought to detain her, whispering urgently: “Mr. Burnett’s in the living-room, waiting. Your mother isn’t home and I didn’t know how to keep him out. If you don’t want to see him you’d better go round to the——”
Lily interrupted her. “I do want to see him,” she declared in a loud voice. “I want to see him instantly!” And she swept into the room to confront the mocker.
But mockery was no part of Mr. Henry Burnett’s present mood—far from it. He had come to apologize, and apology was profoundly in his manner as he rose from the chair in which he had been most dejectedly sitting. Dark semicircles beneath his eyes were proof of inner sufferings; he was haggard with his trouble and more Hamlet-like than ever; but now he was a Hamlet truly humble.
“Lily,” he said, huskily, “I’d sworn to myself I’d never make another attempt to see you as long as I lived, but after what I did awhile ago I had to. I had to explain it. It was in vile taste, and you can’t think any worse of it than I do. But you came on me suddenly. I hadn’t dreamed I’d see you; then all at once I looked up and there you were—and with the man you threw me over for! I just couldn’t——”
“Henry Burnett,” she said, and her hot little voice shook with the rage that vibrated in her whole body;—“you used to be a gentleman. Twice within less than an hour you’ve shown me you’ve forgotten what that word means.”