Without answer, Harry Endicott gave her his arm, accompanied her through the final leave-takings, went with her to the carriage, put her in, and sprang in after her.
Rose sank back on her seat, and remained perfectly silent; and Harry, after a few remarks of his had failed to elicit a reply, rode by her side equally silent through the streets homeward.
He had Mr. Van Astrachan’s latch-key; and, when the carriage stopped, he helped Rose to alight, and went up the steps of the house.
“Miss Ferguson,” he said abruptly, “I have something I want to say to you.”
“Not now, not to-night,” said Rose, hurriedly. “I am too tired; and it is too late.”
“To-morrow then,” he said: “I shall call when you will have had time to be rested. Good-night!”
CHAPTER XXII.
THE SPIDER-WEB BROKEN.
HARRY did not go back, to lead the “German,” as he had been engaged to do. In fact, in his last apologies to Mrs. Follingsbee, he had excused himself on account of his partner’s sudden indisposition,—a thing which made no small buzz and commotion; though the missing gap, like all gaps great and little in human society, soon found somebody to step into it: and the dance went on just as gayly as if they had been there.