“Joe will bring up your bill before dinner,” he said, dryly.
“It will be paid when Joe does bring it,” returned Touchtone, with equal dryness. Then with a few words to Gerald, who preferred staying alone in the inn to allowing any possible telegram to wait in the absence of both, Philip passed out into the street.
Gerald went up-stairs. Not relishing solitude or companionship, he soon came down. Then it was that Mr. Banger made a sudden, tactless attempt at friendliness—and an unexpected catechism. Gerald quietly resisted. He did not fancy Mr. Banger. The boy strayed out along the garden-path and sat a while, in lonely despondency, in the thick-shaded arbor.
The book he had brought fell from his hand. He leaned his head on his arm, the sunlight between the leaves falling upon his bright hair as he looked over the sunny old garden. The caw of a crow, flying high above some neighboring field, and the click of builders’ trowels, mingled with sounds from the lower end of the town. A footstep came lightly up to the arbor-path. He turned around; much astonished. He beheld Mr. Hilliard-Belmont-Jennison (known to him still by only the first borrowed name), scarcely thought of by the little boy, save as a vanished mystery, since the ride on the train from Ossokosee.
“Ah!” the new-comer exclaimed, in his former smooth voice, “I’m delighted to find you here, Gerald. Mr. Banger told me you were. How are you?” He extended his hand, smiling. “You remember me, don’t you?” he asked, standing between the boy and the arbor’s entrance.
Gerald stared at him in bewildered surprise. He would have been more terrified had not so much to cause fear long been spared him.
“I—I do. Yes, sir,” he replied, with wide-open eyes and a pale face. “I—I hope you are well.”
“Quite well, I thank you,” laughed the other. “And I hope you and Mr. Touchtone have forgiven that silly trick, which I never, never meant to let go so far, that I drifted into in the train that afternoon. You remember?”
“Yes. We didn’t know what to make of it. Mr. Hilliard—Mr. Hilliard said—”
“O, I saw Mr. Hilliard next evening and made it all right with him for taking his name in vain, in my little joke. I expected to clear it all up before we got to town that night. Our being separated prevented me. I would have written you and Mr. Touchtone again—”