He remembered with sudden gratification that he had never said a word to her that might not have been spoken before a crowd of listeners. What was there to prevent him withholding the proposal if he liked!
"I've no doubt I shall come," he said abstractedly.
She looked slightly downcast. It was not the reply that she had hoped to hear.
"I shall always owe a debt of gratitude to you and to Mr. and Mrs. Van Buren for making my visit so pleasant to me," he found himself saying next. "My trip has been a delightful experience."
She murmured a conventional response, but chagrin began to creep about her heart.
Heriot diverged into allusions which advanced the position not at all. They spoke of New York, of England, of the voyage—she perfunctorily, and he with ever-increasing relief. And now he felt that he had been on the verge of the precipice for the last time. He had escaped—and by the intensity of his gratitude he realised how ill-judged had been his action in playing around it.
When Mrs. Van Buren reappeared, followed by her husband, her daughter's face told her that the climax had not been reached; and bold in thanksgiving, Heriot excused himself when he was asked to dine with them that evening. Had he been offered the alternative of the next evening, he could not without rudeness have found a pretext for refusing; but on the morrow, as luck would have it, the Van Burens were dining out.
The footman opened the big door, and Heriot descended the steps with a sensation that was foreign to him, and not wholly agreeable. He knew that he did not want to marry Miss Pierways, and that he had behaved like a fool in trying to acquire the desire, but he was a little ashamed of himself. His conduct had not been irreproachable; and he was conscious that when the steamer sailed and the chapter was closed for good and all, he would be glad to have done with it. He had blundered badly. Nevertheless he would have blundered worse, and been a still greater fool, if the affair had terminated in an engagement. Of course his brother would say distasteful things when they met, and Lady Heriot would convey her extreme disapproval of him without saying anything. That he must put up with! Of two evils, he had at any rate chosen the lesser.
He repeated the assurance with still more conviction on Saturday morning during the quarter of an hour in which the cab rattled him to the boat. The experience had been a lesson to him, and he was resolved that henceforward he would dismiss the idea of marriage from his mind. He saw his portmanteau deposited in his cabin, and he returned to the deck as the steamer began to move. The decks were in the confusion that obtains at first. Passengers still hung at the taffrail, taking a farewell gaze at friends on the landing-stage. The chairs were huddled in a heap, and stewards bustled among stacks of luggage, importuned at every second step with instructions and inquiries.
The deep pulsations sounded more regular; the long line of sheds receded; and the figures of the friends were as little dark toys, waving specks of white. Even the most constant among the departing began to turn away now. The hastening stewards were importuned more frequently than before. Everybody was in a hurry, and all the women in the crowd that flocked below seemed to be uttering the words "baggage" and "state-room" at the same time.