“It’s Dr. Frei,” Howard said.
Frei strode rapidly across the porch, his gaze seeking Rosamond. He wore a long, black, military cloak and a soft black hat. As he swept off his hat, and let the cloak fall back from his arm, he suggested a staff-officer in uniform. A sword-glance was flashed in scathing contempt over all but Mrs. Mearely and the prince. These two were exempt from his anger, because he could feel nothing but tenderness for Rosamond; and the prince he had not yet perceived. That distinguished personage had caught sight of Frei on the verandah and immediately hidden himself behind the door.
“Rosamond!” He called her name feelingly and made his way rapidly to her. He kissed her hand. “Fear no longer. I am here.”
“Ah, you have heard of the excitement,” Mrs. Witherby began.
He silenced her with a gesture so commanding, that she continued to stare at his hand for several seconds afterward. His eyes blazed, his whole body quivered with the excess of his emotion.
“Yes! I have heard it! First from Herr Ruggle, of the telegraph, when together we reach for our milk pails on the back of the porch. Then from Dr. Wells. Finally from everybody! I have heard how this beautiful Rosamond, of Roseborough, has been suspected, maligned; her reputation slandered, ruined—criticized—criticized”—he hissed out the word with uncontrollable fury—“by you—and you—and you,” snapping his fingers right and left. “Yes, criticized! and why? why?” Glaring, he paused for emphasis. “Because a gentleman calls upon her, at his convenience! What is more natural?” scornfully. “Two—three o’clock in the morning—these are not your hours for visiting? No! I can believe that!” with seething contempt. “With you—with you—it must be just so. Bah! With me, if I am wakeful and I wish to visit some friend at three o’clock in the morning, immediately I ring my bell, I wake everybody, I am dressed, I demand the carriage or the automobile, or the aeroplane, and I go to visit my friend. I wish to visit, and I visit! What is more natural? Does the clock rule the inclinations or the reputations? Absurdity!”
While he drew breath, Rosamond said quickly:
“They know now. It’s all explained.”
“Certainly. I have come to make the explanation. For your sake only. I detest criticism. I do nothing for people who criticize. If I can make great trouble for them, I do so. Always. But for you, whose heart is torn, bleeding, from their criticisms, I make the great sacrifice. I renounce my incognito. I take you under my protection.”
The word “incognito” is an unusual one to hear bandied about in a peaceful village like Roseborough, and would be sure to produce its effect at any time; but hardly such an effect as was produced by Dr. Frei’s use of it now. Everyone stared at him, then at one another and back at him; that is, everyone but Mrs. Mearely, who had long ago convinced herself that Dr. Frei was some noted violin virtuoso who had come to peaceful Roseborough to recover his health.