It is a good step from the middle of Fairhaven back to the Parker House, but C. B.’s long legs made little of it. He was now free of his charge, free to go to the love that awaited him, and he could not help feeling grateful to God that such a termination had been reached, because he saw full well how hard he might have found it but for the Stewarts, how unconsciously he might have become a burden upon those whose load was almost more than they could carry themselves.
Filled with these reflections he did not notice the distance and reached the hotel before he was aware that he had travelled nearly as far. Mr. and Miss Stewart were sitting on the veranda talking, but Mary’s eyes, ever on the alert, saw him coming, and as he strode up the steps she came to meet him with both hands outspread, recognizing with the lightning intuition of love that now he was all her own. For she like Mrs. Taber had unconsciously resented a share in her loved one’s heart being held by anybody, although her claim was much slighter. And the first words she said to him were—
“Back so soon? don’t they want you any more?”
“No,” he replied gaily enough: “they can do without me now of course, and I am free. It was a bit of a wrench at first, but I soon felt that it would be a very wrong thing for me to stand for a moment between a man and his wife. So I have bid them good-bye, and do not suppose I shall ever see them again.”
By this time they were up to Mr. Stewart, and so she did not reply but squeezed his arm as she released it, in that act saying—
“I am so glad, for now you are all mine, my very own.” And yet such a bundle of contradictions are we, that she felt quite indignant that her king of men should, as she thought, be so cavalierly treated, flung off as she felt like an old shoe that is worn out and therefore wanted no longer. But no trace of this was to be seen in the bright face she turned to her father as C. B. sat down by his side. Without giving either of them time to speak she said—
“Just think of it, daddy, Christmas is free, they have bidden him good-bye, and we can leave now if you like.”
Mr. Stewart took a meditative puff at his cigar before he answered, then he said—
“A good motto, dear one, is never to be in a hurry. Don’t you know that since Christmas has been away there has been a whole raft of people here wanting to see him, and hear him talk. We’ve been followed from Boston, and I know he won’t want to disappoint all these eager folks who’d like to hear what he’s got to say.” And the deep-set eyes twinkled beneath their bushy grey lashes.
“Indeed, Mr. Stewart,” broke in C. B., “I don’t want to see another reporter. And unless you wish it I won’t. All I want now is to be left alone to enjoy the company of Mary and yourself.”