Topham smiled. “I wish I could,” he declared. “But I’m off tomorrow afternoon!”
“Ah! Is it so? I’m sorry. I should have liked to see more of you.” Lord Maxwell rose. “If you girls have seen enough,” he remarked, suggestively; “I think we had better be going.”
With a muttered apology, Ouro Preto glanced at his watch; then leaped to his feet with an exclamation. “A most important engagement,” he declared. “I must take a cab and hurry. I had no idea it was so late. Your fair kinswomen make the time fly, Lord Maxwell,” he continued. “I have to thank them for a most delightful hour.”
CHAPTER X
The party of four started for the embassy on foot, taking their way to where the Charlottenburg Drive cut straight through the noble Thiergarten to the Branderberger Thor and the streets of old Berlin. A few yards from the zoological garden the dazzle of the lamps died away, and only the big stars, flaring in the heavens, lighted the broad white road.
Divining the Americans’ wish to exchange reminiscences, Lord Maxwell and his daughter stepped ahead, leaving the other two to follow.
The wind was rustling through the leaves; the air was damp but warm and languorous; the night seemed made for sentiment. Topham felt it and wondered what Miss Byrd expected him to say. Not knowing, he said nothing.
Miss Byrd, however, either did not feel sentimental or preferred to take another way to show it. “Well, Walter,” she began, “I suppose I ought to ask about everybody and then you ought to ask about everybody and by the time we have learned all about everybody, we should be at the embassy saying good-night, without either of us knowing anything we really wanted to know. So suppose we take everybody’s health for granted and talk of things we really care about.”
Topham started. This girl was not the Lillian Byrd he had known. Bright, witty, and attractive she yet seemed to him almost a stranger. Perhaps, he pondered, it was because he no longer loved her, and yet—and yet—the Lillian Byrd he had known of old had possessed a very special air of refinement—one bringing memories of lavender and stately homes and dear old-fashioned ladies, while this girl seemed hardened, metallic, with a laugh that tinkled out of tune. He was silent, not knowing what to say.
Miss Byrd noticed his hesitation and attributed it instantly to the right cause.