Stephen searched deliberately for his man throughout the length of the crowded thoroughfare, standing the while on the topmost step of the Governor's Mansion—that great old-fashioned structure resembling in many details a fortification, with its two wings like bastions extending to the rear, its spacious yard enclosed with a high wall and ornamented with two great rows of lofty pine trees. It was the most stately house within the confines of the city and, with Christ Church, helped to make Second Street one of the aristocratic thoroughfares of the town.
It was with difficulty that Stephen discerned Anderson walking briskly in the direction of Market Street. He set off immediately, taking care to keep at a safe distance behind him. He met several acquaintances, to whom he doffed his hat and returned their afternoon greeting, while he pursued his quest with lively interest and attention. Market Street was reached, and here he was obliged to pause near a shop window lest he might overtake Anderson, who had halted to exchange pleasantries with a young and attractive couple. On they went again deliberately and persistently until at length it began to dawn upon Stephen that they were headed for the Germantown road, and for Allison's house.
What strange relation was arising between Marjorie and that man? Anderson was paying marked attention to her, he began to muse to himself, too much attention perhaps, for one whose whole existence was clouded with a veil of mystery. Undoubtedly he was meeting with some encouragement, if not reciprocation (perish the thought!), for he was persistent in his attention. Yet this man was not without charm. There was something fascinating about him which even Stephen must confess was compelling. What if she had been captivated by him, by his engaging personal qualities, by his prepossessing appearance, by his habit of gentle speech, by his dignity and his ease of manner! His irritation was justifiable.
There was little doubt now as to Anderson's destination. Plainly he was bent on one purpose. The more he walked, the more evident this became. Stephen would be assured, however, and pursued his way until he had seen with his own eyes his man turn into Allison's house. And not until then did he halt. Turning deliberately he began to retrace his steps.
II
"This looks like the kind of book. Has it the 'Largo'?"
Anderson sat on the music-stool before the clavichord turning over the pages of a volume that rested on the rack.
"Perhaps. I scarce think I know what it is. I have never heard it."
Marjorie was nearby. She had been musing over the keys, letting her fingers wander where they would, when he had called. He would not disturb her for all the world, nevertheless he did yield to her entreaties to take her place on the stool.
"You have never heard Handel? The 'Largo' or the greatest of all oratorios, his 'Messiah'?"