They heard him walking into the hall, where he probably perceived the smell of steak and coffee.
"So you and your mistress can get up a meal when I'm away," he began in a sneering tone. "You didn't expect I'd come home, I suppose. Well, I'm glad I've found what is done in my absence; and you may leave as quick as you please."
By this time he had laid aside his hat and gloves, thrown his newspaper on the hall table; and walked toward the dining room, asking: "Is your mistress here?" throwing open the door.
His tone changed as if by magic; and yet it was easy to perceive the surprise of seeing his brother-in-law was not at the moment an agreeable one.
"Why, Wallingford, how are you? Welcome to Chicago. Miss Gilbert you look as blooming as a June rose. Gertrude, love, are you ill? You are very pale. Ah, I feared the effect of your last night's dissipation. Fact, I have myself a blinding headache to-day. Makes me as blue as I used to get sometimes in our old college days, Wallingford."
"How is business?" inquired Edward, breaking an awkward pause.
"Very good! No, I thank you, Miss Gilbert, I have eaten dinner. I came home to see how Gerty was getting on with her clearing away, after our first party. She ate so many dainties last night, feared she would be sick to-day."
"Why, Paul, you forget I didn't taste any thing."
Both Marion and Mr. Wallingford caught an ugly scowl which for one moment distorted the features of the lawyer, which instantaneously changed to a smile, as he said carelessly:
"Ah, was that so? My duties as a host kept me very busy. You are so fond of cake and candies, that I supposed you indulged freely."