Matthew went along swiftly like a man overcoming irresolution. He was walking instead of driving and the night air, full of the chill of early autumn, seemed to invigorate him. At Cecily’s house Ellen took his hat and told him that Mrs. Harrison was in. He had last seen Ellen at Mrs. Horton’s bedside.
“You fit in well here, Ellen,” he said, looking about at the quiet, spacious house which seemed too quiet. “I hope you’re planning to stay, now.”
“Yes, I am going to stay,” she answered. “Mrs. Harrison needs me.”
She turned to go, but on impulse he called her back.
“Ellen, if Mrs. Harrison ever needs me, if she ever needs a man and you know it, will you send me word? Mrs. Allenby and I are off to Washington next week.”
“Yes. That’s what Mr. Harrison asked me, too.”
She might have said more, but Cecily herself came down the staircase, a little surprised at the sight of her visitor. She held out both hands and drew him into the long living-room before the fire.
“I hoped you wouldn’t go away without coming to see me.”
“Of course not. How are you?”
All was casual. But they could not keep it up. After a little there was silence and as the silence ripened, they knew they could speak of anything.