The hour was waxing late.
“I must resume my duties,” said Mrs. Percy-Bartlett reluctantly; “and abandon my friend for the sake of my guests. Will you come to see me soon? Let me see—a week from to-night I have no engagement. Will you come and talk to me of friendship?”
“Very gladly,” murmured Richard, touching her willing hand again. “Until then I shall not live, but dream!”
Richard and Fenton strolled together down the avenue, silent and self-absorbed. Finally the former asked,—
“Did you have a pleasant evening, John?”
“Very,” answered Fenton gruffly.
They walked for half a block before they spoke again.
“The music was well done,” ventured Richard.
“Yes,” assented Fenton. Neither of the two again opened their lips until they reached the cross-street at which they were to part.
“Good-night, John,” said Richard, holding out his hand.