King felt the subtle restraint which he could not define or explain. And before he could speak she said: “We are going away tomorrow.” “We? And who are we?” “Oh, the Simpkinses and our whole family, and Mr. Meigs.” “And where?”
“Mr. Meigs has persuaded mother into the wildest scheme. It is nothing less than to leap from, here across all the intervening States to the White Sulphur Springs in Virginia. Father falls into the notion because he wants to see more of the Southerners, Mrs. Simpkins and her daughter are crazy to go, and Mr. Meigs says he has been trying to get there all his life, and in August the season is at its height. It was all arranged before I was consulted, but I confess I rather like it. It will be a change.”
“Yes, I should think it would be delightful,” King replied, rather absent-mindedly. “It's a long journey, a very long journey. I should think it would be too long a journey for Mr. Meigs—at his time of life.”
It was not a fortunate remark, and still it might be; for who could tell whether Irene would not be flattered by this declaration of his jealousy of Mr. Meigs. But she passed it over as not serious, with the remark that the going did not seem to be beyond the strength of her father.
The introduction of Mr. Meigs in the guise of an accepted family friend and traveling companion chilled King and cast a gloom over the landscape. Afterwards he knew that he ought to have dashed in and scattered this encompassing network of Meigs, disregarded the girl's fence of reserve, and avowed his love. More women are won by a single charge at the right moment than by a whole campaign of strategy.
On the way back to the hotel he was absorbed in thought, and he burst into the room where Forbes was touching up one of his sketches, with a fully-formed plan. “Old fellow, what do you say to going to Virginia?”
Forbes put in a few deliberate touches, moving his head from side to side, and with aggravating slowness said, “What do you want to go to Virginia for?”
“Why White Sulphur, of course; the most characteristic watering-place in America. See the whole Southern life there in August; and there's the Natural Bridge.”
“I've seen pictures of the Natural Bridge. I don't know as I care much” (still contemplating the sketch from different points of view, and softly whistling) “for the whole of Southern life.”
“See here, Forbes, you must have some deep design to make you take that attitude.”