Marley heard on Monday evening that Judge Blair had gone to Cincinnati, and the news filled him with a high if somewhat culpable joy. He found Lavinia and her mother on the veranda, and Lavinia said, with a grave simplicity:
“Mama, this is Glenn.”
“I’m very glad to have you come,” said Mrs. Blair, trying instantly to rob the situation of the embarrassment she felt it must have for the young man.
Marley could not say a word, but he put all his gratitude in the pressure he gave Mrs. Blair’s hand. The light that came from the hall was dim, and though Mrs. Blair could see that Marley was straight and carried himself well, his face was blurred by the shadows. She turned to Lavinia.
“Will you bring out another chair, dear, or would you prefer to go indoors?”
Then, seeing an advantage in this latter alternative, she decided for them:
“Perhaps we’d better go in, I fear it’s cool out here.”
She held back the screen door and Lavinia whisked excitedly into the hall. Mrs. Blair led the way to the parlor and sent Lavinia for a match. Then, turning to Marley, waiting there in the darkness, she said:
“She has told me, Glenn.”
Marley felt something tender, maternal in her voice; the way she spoke his name affected him.