Mrs. Romayne started to her feet at the sight of him with a strange, hardly articulate sound, which was almost a gasp of relief, though it passed unnoticed by either of the two men, as Julian advanced quickly to Loring.
“How are you, old man?” he said pleasantly. “Awfully glad to see you back again.”
“This is the reward of merit, you see!” said Mrs. Romayne, as Loring replied, in the same tone. “You come home to tea with your mother, and you find a friend! Will you have some tea, sir?”
Her face was still a little odd, and unusual-looking, especially about the eyes; and the touch which she laid upon Julian, as if to enforce her words, was strangely clinging and nervous in its quick pressure.
The talk drifted in all sorts of directions after that; all more or less personal, either to the speakers, or to mutual acquaintances. As the moments passed, Loring’s eyes were fixed once or twice, with momentary intentness, on the younger man. That new touch of independence about Julian did not belong only to his manner with his mother. It was just perceptible towards the friend whom he had hitherto admired with boyish enthusiasm.
Loring rose to go at last, and as he did so he turned to Julian.
“If it were not that I don’t like to propose your deserting Mrs. Romayne,” he said, “I should ask you if you wouldn’t come and keep me company over a lonely dinner at the club, Julian? I suppose you don’t want to get rid of him, by any chance?” he continued, turning to Mrs. Romayne.
Mrs. Romayne and Julian laughed simultaneously; Julian with a little touch of embarrassment.
“I’m sure my mother has no objection to getting rid of me,” said Julian rather hastily; “but, unfortunately, I’m engaged.”
“Engaged!” said Loring. “Lucky fellow, to have engagements at this time of year!”