“Yes, I mean to stay,” he replied.
CHAPTER XIV
She waited for something to follow—something that would let her into the secret of his flinging away the fragments of the circulars for which he had written to the officials of the steamship companies. She would have liked to know that it was on her account he had abandoned whatever project of travel he had in his mind; but dear as the reflection that he had done it for her sake would have been, it would have brought with it a certain pang to feel that she was a brake upon his enterprises.
She had a mother’s instinct that there was something to be told to her—something that would suggest to her what were his reasons for making up his mind to give his new life a fair trial. So she waited. She could see that something had touched him and left its mark upon him, whether for good or bad she could not tell; but surely, she thought, it must be for good. She was not so simple as to fancy that his success in the tennis tournament was the incident that had been potent enough to cause him to change his plans. The very fact of his enlarging as he did upon his own play and the play of the other men was enough to convince her that the day’s tennis had nothing to do with the matter. So she listened, and became animated in her commendation of his perseverance, and waited.
He drank tea with her, still talking of the tennis, with an occasional discursion in respect of the people who were on the ground; and then he lit a cigar, and fell into a train of thoughtfulness. She believed that he would now tell her something of what she wanted to, know; but he was still reticent, and before he had got halfway through his cigar he rose from his chair saying:
“I think that I shall take a stroll across the park to the farm. Funny, isn’t it, that I only spent about half an hour there since I arrived?”
“I am sure that they will appreciate a visit,” said his mother. “After so long an interregnum they will welcome the appearance of a new ruler.”
“Especially if he doesn’t rule,” said he, grimly.