“No, she didn’t, Mrs. Baron. I just dropped in.” His voice, by reason of its bigness and calmness, had the effect of making every one in the room feel how petty and needless had been the unpleasantness which Mrs. Baron’s arrival had created. His hair seemed more bristling than ever as he added: “If you will permit me, I’ll bid you good day.” He made a rather stiff bow, which was meant to include every one in the room, and turned to go.
But here Mrs. Harrod interfered again. “Peter!” she called.
The uttering of the unfamiliar given name created profound surprise in certain minds.
“Peter!” she repeated. “I won’t have you go away like that. I want you to know Mrs. Baron better than you seem to know her. She doesn’t mean half she says. Emily, tell him I’m right!” She looked commandingly at Mrs. Baron. It was evident that she had a nature which was not to be subdued by trivial mishaps.
Mrs. Baron flinched. “Who is Peter?” she demanded feebly.
“If you don’t know, I advise you to cultivate your son’s friends. Do you mean that you don’t know Peter Addis? Why, he’s been like a son of mine. You ought to have known how fond I and the colonel are of him. I’m surprised you’ve never met him at our house.”
“I never did,” said Mrs. Baron, swallowing with difficulty.
“Well, for goodness’ sake let’s go down-stairs—please excuse me for suggesting, Emily, in your house—and behave ourselves. I suppose we’ve all been at fault—all except that delightful child. I’m going to find her and tell her so!”
“It was so funny!” declared the elder Miss McKelvey, appealing tremulously to Mrs. Baron, and patting her on the arm. She thought of laughing, which was, she believed, the easiest thing to do in all sorts of circumstances.
Mrs. Harrod’s brain was working energetically. She had been reading various faces, and she realized that even yet Mrs. Baron had not spoken to Addis. She drew conclusions. On the way down-stairs she kept Addis close to her.