"You'll have coffee, Garvin—" Judith was saying, "and what else?"
"Anything. I'm not hungry."
He looked infinitely tired. His eyes harbored melancholy easily, as did Edward's; he looked somberly at Judith as he tossed a folded slip of paper across to her. "From Ed," he said briefly. Judith glanced at it, then set it aside.
Baird's brain was working again. So Edward had gone—where? And why?
"Is it going to be hot, Garvin?" Mrs. Morrison asked.
"It is already hot, Aunt Carlotta." His voice was too even for sarcasm.
"Aunt Carlotta and I are going to church, and Mr. Baird thinks he must go back to the club. What are you going to do?" Judith said, in the same clear way in which she had spoken to her own people the night before.
Garvin straightened a little under its warning note. "I? I am going to ride—if I can have Black Betty—the bay is about done. You and Aunt Carlotta can represent the family at church, and I'll show myself at the village. I'll ride as far as the Post-Road with you, Baird." He spoke more heartily, though his always disdainful lip curled.
Judith's anxious eyes said that he looked a fitter subject for bed than for the saddle, but she made no comment. For her sake, Baird excused himself and rose. "I'll get things into my bag, then."