XII
The next day was Saturday; and as the shop closed at one, June prepared to keep her promise of accompanying William to his “treasure house.” Strategy was needed, all the same. After she had washed up, she put on her “going out” dress. But when she came downstairs in it, Uncle Si, who took a most unwelcome interest in all her movements, inquired what was in the wind.
“I’m going to look at a hat,” was the answer, bland and cool.
“Going to look at a hat!” To the mind of Uncle Si it was an unheard-of proceeding. “Next thing you’ll be wanting to buy a hat.”
June confessed that it might be so.
“You’ve got one already, haven’t you? Besides, the shops won’t be open.”
The good shops might not be open, June allowed. But she was not seeking a good hat. The article to which her fancy turned was for every-day use; yet when all was said it was a mere blind. She did not really intend to buy a hat, but she certainly meant if possible, to throw dust in the eyes of the Old Crocodile. Had he been able to guess that she was going with William to the National Gallery he would have banned the expedition.
In order to stand well with her conscience and not be a story teller in the eyes of the world, June walked as far as the Strand, and carefully inspected the window of a cheap milliner’s. And then, as arranged, she met William as the clocks were striking three at the Charing Cross corner of Trafalgar Square.
It was a glorious September afternoon. And for June it was an exquisite if brief escape from servitude. She had yet to see William apart from the shop, yet now, as she came upon him standing by the post office, she was quite struck by his appearance. Tall and slight of form, he carried himself well, his neat suit of blue serge, old though it was in the revealing light of the sun, was brushed with scrupulous care, and his large flowing tie which he had the art of tying in a way of his own, made him look so interesting that June secretly was rather proud of being seen in his company. For undeniably he was handsome. In fact, standing there straight, alert and smiling upon the world, he had a look of mysterious charm which in the eye of one beholder raised him above the run of men.
At the sight of June, he lifted his old straw hat with a little air of homage, and also with a slight blush that became him adorably. And in his mood there was a poetry that delighted her, although she was careful not to let him know it.