“Kenneth’s last day home,” she lamented, “and such a celebration of it; isn’t it perfectly awful? Just as if Captain Monroe and the storm had not brought us distress enough! Of course,” she added, contritely, “it’s unfeeling of me to take that view of it, and I don’t expect you to sympathize with me.” There was a pause in which she felt herself condemned. “And the house all lit up as for a party; oh, dear; it will all be solemn as a grave now in spite of the lights, and our pretty dresses; well, I think I’ll take a book into the sitting room. I could not possibly read in here,” and she cast a shrinking glance towards the big chair. “Is that not Romeo and Juliet under your hand? That will do, please.”
Judithe took down the volume, turned the leaves rapidly, and smiled.
“You will find the balcony scene on the tenth page,” she remarked.
And then they both laughed, and Evilena beat a retreat lest some of the others should enter and catch her laughing when the rest of the household were doleful, and she simply could not be doleful over Matthew Loring; she was only sorry Kenneth’s day was spoiled.
The little episode, slight as it was, broke in on the unpleasant fancies of Judithe, and substituted a new element. She closed the glass doors and turned towards the window, quite herself again.
She stepped between the curtains and looked out on the driving storm, trying to peer through the grey sheets of falling rain. The guard, then, according to Miss Loring, had not yet arrived, after all, and the others, the Federals, had a chance of being first on the field; oh, why––why did they not hurry?
The pelting of the rain on the window prevented her from hearing the entrance of Colonel McVeigh and the Judge, while the curtain hid her effectually; it was not until she turned to cross the room into the hall that she was aware of the two men beside the table, each with documents and papers of various sorts, which they were arranging. The Judge held one over which he hesitated; looking at the younger man thoughtfully, and finally he said:
“The rest are all right, Kenneth; it was not for those I wanted to see you alone, but for this. I could not have it come under your mother’s notice, and the settlement has already been delayed too long, but your absence, first abroad, then direct to the frontier, and then our own war, and Mr. Loring’s illness––”
He was rambling along inconsequently; McVeigh glanced at him, questioningly; it was so rare a thing to see the Judge ill at ease over any legal transaction, but he plainly was, now; and when his client reached over and took the paper from his hand he surrendered it and broke off abruptly his rambling explanation.