Pompilard returned his gaze, as if waiting for something; then, seeing that nothing came, he lifted a chair, replaced it with emphasis on the floor, and sat down. If it was a rebuke, Charlton did not take it, though the terrier seemed to comprehend it fully, for he began to bark, and made a reconnoissance of Charlton’s legs that plainly meant mischief.
Pompilard refreshed himself for a moment with the lawyer’s alarm, then ordered Grip to lie down under the table, which he did with a quavering whine of expostulation.
“I see,” said Pompilard, “you almost forget the precise nature of the connection to which I allude. Let me explain: the lady who has the honor to be your wife is the step-mother, I believe, of Mr. Henry Berwick.”
“Both the step-mother and aunt,” interposed Charlton, somewhat mollified by the language of his visitor.
“Yes, she was half-sister to his own mother,” resumed Pompilard. “Well, the wife of Mr. Henry Berwick was Miss Aylesford of Chicago, and is the niece of my present wife.”
“I understand all that,” said Charlton; and then, as the thought occurred to him that he might make the connection useful, he rose, and, offering his hand, said, “I am happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Pompilard.” That gentleman rose and exchanged salutations; and Grip, under the table, gave a smothered howl, subsiding into a whine, as if he felt personally aggrieved by the concession, and would like to put his teeth in the calf of a certain leg.
“My object in calling,” said Pompilard, “is merely to inquire if you can give me the present address of Mrs. Henry Berwick. My wife wishes to communicate with her.”
Charlton generally either evaded a direct question or answered it by a lie. He never received a request for information, even in regard to the time of day, that he did not cast about in his mind to see how he could gain by the withholding or profit by the giving. He took it for granted that every man was trying to get the advantage of him; and he resolved to take the initiative in that game. And so, to Pompilard’s inquiry, Charlton replied:
“I really cannot say whether Mr. Berwick is in the country or not. The last I heard of him he was in Paris.”
“Then your intelligence of him is not so late as mine. He arrived in Boston some days since, but left immediately for the West by the way of Albany. I thought your wife might be in communication with him.”