Henry, with discreet face, was removing the tea-things. He lifted the tray and then set it down and went to the window, pushing back the heavy curtains. "The storm is over, sir," he said.
The fresh, full light flooded in. Henry put out the candles one by one and took up his tray. "Mr. Julian sent word as he'll be home to dinner, sir—with a young lady—" He paused. "Shall I lay the table for her?"
"Yes—she will stay to dinner. She will be here often now," said Herman Medfield.
"Very good, sir. Thank you, sir." Henry took up his tray and went out.
Herman Medfield sat alone by his fire, with the memory of a white-capped face across the hearth and a little thought stirring in him of children playing in the great room, among his art treasures—with the light coming in softly, as it was coming now, across the little potted plants in the windows.
[XLII]
"Where have you been, all the afternoon!" Dr. Carmon was fuming in the office. He got up as Aunt Jane came in.
"Where have you been?" he demanded. "I've needed you! They looked everywhere for you!"