In the confusion of tongues two voices were silent. Emily and Jean each had her own reason for wishing Miss Stuart a thousand miles away, and both looked a little contemptuous at the excitement that was being made over her. However, their lack of interest did not dampen the enthusiasm of the others, and the day was carried. The men did not need a great deal of urging, for they had already met Miss Stuart, and were eloquent in their praises of her. Dick Andrews succumbed at once to the tender passion, much to everybody's amusement, for jolly Dick in the rôle of lovesick swain was a most diverting spectacle.
Andrews did not have it all his own way, however, for Miss Stuart, with an exception in Farr's favor, treated them quite impartially. It was conceded that Farr, as an old friend, had a prior right, and no one marveled that Miss Stuart's manner toward him was particularly gracious and amiable. They were much in each other's society, and so diplomatic was Miss Stuart, that no one discerned that their frequent tête-à-têtes were invariably of her planning.
It must be said, however, that Farr made no resistance and appeared eminently at ease with her. He was sorely wounded, and as angry with Jean as it was possible for him to be; and in this dejected and unenviable frame of mind, he took small heed of what he did with his time. Monday night when, at Helen's request, Jean had left the drawing-room, she had distinctly bade him hope. One hour later, she had again veered round and had treated him with a contemptuous indifference which he felt he had in no way deserved. Even then he had tried to believe that his imagination was at fault, but when she had purposely overlooked the hand which he had extended to her in parting, he could no longer deceive himself. Unfortunately, Miss Stuart had seen the slight which Jean had put upon him, and the faint smile of amusement in her eyes when she had said, "good-night" to him but deepened the sting. In a tempest of rage he flung himself out of the house and strode furiously down the avenue, leaving poor Dudley far behind, to wonder what on earth was the matter.
It was not easy for Farr with his nature to forgive a repulse, and on Tuesday he kept to the Vortex, nursing his wrongs, and vowing he would take no step to make matters right between them until Jean should show some sign of penitence. By Wednesday this determination was less firm, and during the hours of his work and leisure his heart was pleading for Jean. When evening came he gave up the struggle, and at nine o'clock presented himself at the manor.
The light that streamed out through the open door and windows revealed quite a number of people on the veranda, and he remembered that he had observed the Sylph riding at anchor in the harbor. They gave him a hearty welcome, and while Nathalie was rallying him for his unkind desertion of them, he vainly tried to discover Jean's whereabouts. His inability to do so was soon explained.
"Where did Jean go?" Nathalie asked.
Eleanor answered from the corner of the veranda:
"She went in the house a little while ago."
"Send Susie up for her, Nathalie," Helen requested.
Farr took a seat on the railing at a point which commanded a view of the hall; and found himself face to face with Miss Stuart, who was tilting slowly back and forth in a deep rocker. They had interchanged one or two commonplace remarks when a maid tripped across the hall and stood in the doorway.