“How you hate him!” exclaimed John with a laugh.
“I–I do not hate him. But you ought to, Mr. Harrington. I simply despise him, that is all.”
“No, I do not hate him either,” answered John. “I would not disturb my peace of mind for the sake of hating any one. It is not worth while.”
Some one came and spoke to Joe, and John moved away in the crowd, more disturbed in mind than he cared to acknowledge. He had gone to Joe’s side in the firm conviction that Mrs. Wyndham was only making an untimely jest, and that Joe would greet him indifferently. Instead she had blushed, turned paler, hesitated in her speech, and had shown every sign of confusion and embarrassment. He knew that Mrs. Wyndham was right, after all, and he avoided her, not wishing to give a fresh opportunity for making remarks upon Joe’s manner.
The breakfast progressed, and the people wandered out into the garden from the hot rooms, seeking some coolness in the shady walks. By some chain of circumstances which John could not explain, he found himself left alone with Joe an hour after he had first met her in the house. A little knot of acquaintances had gone out to the end of one of the walks, where there was a shady old bower, and presently they had paired off and moved away in various directions, leaving John and Joe together. The excitement had brought the faint color to the girl’s face at last, and she was more than usually inclined to talk, partly from nervous embarrassment, and partly from the enlivening effect of so many faces she had not seen for so long.
“Tell me,” she said, pulling a leaf from the creepers and twisting it in her fingers–“tell me, how long was it before you forgot your disappointment about the election? Or did you think it was not worth while to disturb your peace of mind for anything so trivial?”
“I suppose I could not help it,” said John. “I was dreadfully depressed at first. I told you so, do you remember?”
“Of course you were, and I was very sorry for you. I told you you would lose it, long before, but you do not seem to care in the least now. I do not understand you at all.”
“I soon got over it,” said John. “I left Boston on the day after I saw you, and went straight to London. And then I found that a friend of mine was dead, and I had so much to do that I forgot everything that had gone before.”
Joe gave a little sigh, short and sharp, and quickly checked.