"What do you write that down for?" James asked him.
"Partly from habit, old fellow, and partly because I never was concerned in so strange an affair before, and I have a fancy for reminding myself of it."
He had put up the pocket-book as he spoke, and they were walking slowly away.
"I remember well," said Meredith, "when I said good-bye to her on board the Boomerang, I wondered what sort of fate awaited her in England. It is a very enviable one on the whole, in spite of this little cloud, which I look upon as quite blown over. It might have been an ugly business if that poor wretch had pulled through in the hospital. What a comfort that it has all been so capitally managed, isn't it?"
"Yes," said James absently; "how very, very miserable she looked!"
"Never mind that--it was natural--it was all so awkward you know. Why, now that it is over, I can hardly believe it. But she will be all right to-morrow--the journey had something to do with her looks, you must remember."
When they reached the hotel they found Mr. Baldwin alone in the sitting-room. Hayes Meredith had recovered his spirits much more than any of the party. He was quite chatty, and inclined to enjoy himself, now that it was possible, in the delightful novelty of London. Besides, he judged wisely that the less difference the event of the morning should be allowed to make in the disposition of the day the better.
Mr. Baldwin was ready to devote himself to his guest's pleasure, and a pleasant programme was soon made out. On reference being made to Margaret she said she would remain at home all day, with the child. James, too, pleaded fatigue, and did not leave the house. And when the other two were gone he thought, "No one, not even he knows what this is to her so well as I know it."