At last Noll said hoarsely:
“I must find Betty.”
The old lawyer smiled inwardly.
“I shall suffocate in this dingy place,” said he. “Let us go out to St. James’s Park—we can talk there in the fresh air—and I love the place.”
They walked by Charing Cross and Pall Mall to St. James’s Park, and thus, and amidst the laughter of children, Noll heard that he had come near to the great responsibilities of his manhood.
The grassy place about him teemed with sweet associations of Betty; and his mind kept straying away from the recital of his fortune and the duties that had come to him to the rustle of sweet-scented ghostly skirts that swept the grass and the fragrance of a girl’s dainty being. And the old lawyer, shrewd man of the world, suspected it, and was glad of it....
The old gentleman arose, and put his last questions:
“Oh, another point, before we part—your cousin wronged a young girl—indeed, he wronged several—and deserted them. What do you wish to be done?”
He looked keenly at the young fellow before him.