CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE END OF THE EPISODE.
WHEN the train had fairly started, that morning, Flossie sank back into her seat with a certain sensation of relief. Almost immediately, they entered the long tunnel under the city; no conversation was possible, nor could she see Mr. Wemyss’s face. She had the back seat herself; Justine sat with him, on the seat in front of her. As they came out of the tunnel and crossed the Harlem River, she looked at him. He met her eye nervously, and she could see that he was embarrassed by the presence of the maid.
“When do we sail?” said she. Flossie was quite indifferent to the maid. What cared she for the maid’s opinion? And she ignored his glances beseeching that she might be told to go. But Justine herself asked Mrs. Gower demurely if she should not fetch a glass of water, and went of her own accord.
“The Parthia sails at six to-night,” said Wemyss. “You will have ample time to rest in Boston, if you wish, dearest.” The expression of affection sounded commonplace; and Wemyss felt that it did, self-consciously. “It is infinitely better we should go from Boston,” he went on; “the Parthia is slow, but that makes no difference; and there is certain to be no one in her we know, at this time of the year. I took the passage in fictitious names, of course.”
“What did you do that for?”
“I thought you would prefer it,” said he; and made bold to take her hand.
“It was very ridiculous and quite unnecessary,” said Flossie, withdrawing it. “When I go to Europe, I am willing all the world should know.”
Wemyss did not know just what to say; and fortunately the conductor made his first entry at that juncture. He attended to his business perfunctorily; and it struck Wemyss as curious that he did not note anything unusual about their trip. It seemed to him that all the world must see that he was going to England with her, and that she was not his wife.
The newspapers lay unread upon the seat. Mrs. Gower did not care to read them; and Wemyss gave his whole attention to her, as a matter of course. She was looking at the window, watching the familiar landscape fly by; and he began to think how they could pass through Boston with least certainty of being seen. He had had the passenger-list of the steamer telegraphed on the night before; and knew that no acquaintance would be on board; he felt it would be embarrassing to meet an acquaintance, until their position was regularized.