But the simple words set his pulse to beating faster. There was in them something of the ’cello note.
He bowed as she passed before him. She hurried on to Aunt Philomela, and he crossed to the candle and blew it out. He found that after all the dark did not make so much difference.
Barnes made his way to the little Dutch door, opened it and stepped out into the night. As he did so a man who was retreating down the path turned and came back. It was Langdon.
“Hello!” he called. “I had hoped to catch you, but when I saw the light go out, I thought you must have retired.”
“You wished to see me?” Barnes asked in surprise.
“You, Joe,” answered Langdon nervously. “You don’t mind if I call you Joe?”
“Not at all,” answered Barnes, indifferently.
But the name instantly destroyed some beautiful dreams he had come out there to dream.
He sat down on the stone step but Langdon remained standing.
“I thought,” Langdon began, “that as long as Mr. Van Patten is so ill and you’re the man of the family now, I ought to come to you.”