She glanced up at her husband; then back at Arthur, who was silently staring at the floor.
“He seems half stupid,” she whispered.
When she had gathered up her train and left the room, James carefully shut the door and went back to his chair beside the table. Arthur sat as before, perfectly motionless and silent.
“Arthur,” James began in a milder tone, now Julia was not there to hear, “I am very sorry that this has come out. You might just as well not have known it. However, all that's over; and I am pleased to see that you can behave with such self-control. Julia is a—a little excited; ladies often—anyhow, I don't want to be too hard on you.”
He stopped to see what effect the kindly words had produced; but Arthur was quite motionless.
“Of course, my dear boy,” James went on after a moment, “this is a distressing story altogether, and the best thing we can do is to hold our tongues about it. My father was generous enough not to divorce your mother when she confessed her fall to him; he only demanded that the man who had led her astray should leave the country at once; and, as you know, he went to China as a missionary. For my part, I was very much against your having anything to do with him when he came back; but my father, just at the last, consented to let him teach you, on condition that he never attempted to see your mother. I must, in justice, acknowledge that I believe they both observed that condition faithfully to the end. It is a very deplorable business; but——”
Arthur looked up. All the life and expression had gone out of his face; it was like a waxen mask.
“D-don't you think,” he said softly, with a curious stammering hesitation on the words, “th-that—all this—is—v-very—funny?”
“FUNNY?” James pushed his chair away from the table, and sat staring at him, too much petrified for anger. “Funny! Arthur, are you mad?”
Arthur suddenly threw back his head, and burst into a frantic fit of laughing.