The voice, whose tremor at last betrayed the intensity of the feeling that had hitherto been carefully guarded, ceased, and suddenly starting with a self-conscious look, and coloring deeply, Mildred glided softly from the room. Aunt Madison followed her.
The fire had burned low and the light was dim. The young men had forgotten me in the sofa corner.
There was not a word said for a minute or two as they sat looking into the bed of coals and listening to the wind shuddering through the bare branches of the elms outside. Mr. Mather sat leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands; I could not see his face. Presently he looked up and made a motion as if to speak, but apparently he changed his mind, for he said nothing. At last Mr. Gordon’s voice broke the silence.
“I say, Madison,” he asked, with a studiously polite manner, “who is this charming Miss Brewster who has favored us with the benefit of her views?”
“She is a sort of second cousin of my mother,” Will replied. “She has just returned from abroad, and I haven’t seen much of her yet.”
“Well,” rejoined the other, “with your permission, I will venture to say that with all due respect to your mother’s second or third cousin, I would as lief hear it thunder as to hear her talk. Why can’t a pretty woman let well enough alone and not go into hysterics over what she doesn’t know anything about? You would think, to hear her go on, that the country was going to the devil, and that we were the cause of it.”
“I wonder if all those facts about Russia and the thirty per cent. taxation in Italy are really true,” interposed Mr. Conro, meditatively. “She reeled off all those statistics like a schoolma’am saying dates.”
“They are true if she says so, you can bet your life on that,” answered Will, thoroughly nettled. “Being out at Cambridge most of the time, I haven’t seen much of her, and I never heard her say so much on any subject before to-night. I was about as much surprised as you were at her coming out in that way; but if you and Gordon think she is the kind of girl to go into hysterics over nothing, you are mightily mistaken. Most people talk for the sake of talking, but I’ve seen enough of her to know that when she says a thing it stands for something. What you said hurt her in a way a fellow like you can’t understand. You’ve no interest in a girl who has any notions beyond flattering you into thinking you are the most stunning fellow going.”
“Beg pardon,” drawled Gordon, “but”—
“Hold on there,” interposed Mr. Mather, grimly; “you’ve said enough. What she said was solid gospel, and you know it as well as I do.”