Torrance cut him short. “In these things it is the man that counts the most, and not the dollars. You will not have to worry over that point, now you have told me I can trust Hetty to you.”
He said a little more on the same subject, and then Clavering went out with unpleasantly confused sensations through which a feeling of degradation came uppermost. He had not led an exemplary life, but pride had kept him clear of certain offences, and he had as yet held his word sacred when put upon his honour. It was some minutes before he ventured to join Hetty and Miss Schuyler, who he knew by the sound of the piano were in the hall.
Hetty sat with her fingers on the keyboard, the soft light of the lamps in the sconces shining upon her—very pretty, very dainty, an unusual softness in the eyes. She turned towards Clavering.
“You went in to get it”—touching the music—“just because you heard me say I would like those songs. A four days’ ride, and a blizzard raging on one of them!” she said.
Clavering looked at her gravely with something in his eyes that puzzled Miss Schuyler, who had expected a wittily graceful speech.
“You are pleased with them?” he said.
“Yes,” said the girl impulsively. “But I feel horribly mean because I sent you, although, of course, I didn’t mean to. It was very kind of you, but you must not do anything of that kind again.”
Clavering, who did not appear quite himself, watched her turn over the music in silence, for though the last words were spoken quietly, there was, he and Miss Schuyler fancied, a definite purpose behind them.
“Then, you will sing one of them?” he said.
Hetty touched the keys—there was a difference in her when she sang, for music was her passion, and as the clear voice thrilled the two who listened, a flush of exaltation, that was almost spiritual, crept into her face. Clavering set his lips, and when the last notes sank into the stillness Miss Schuyler wondered what had brought the faint dampness to his forehead. She did not know that all that was good in him had revolted against what he had done, and meant to do, just then, and had almost gained the mastery. Unfortunately, instead of letting Hetty sing again and fix Clavering’s half-formed resolution, she allowed her distrust of him to find expression; for capable young woman though she was, Flora Schuyler sometimes blundered.