Then turning to Gertie he said:
“I am at your service now, if you are ready to go home. It must be near dinner-time.”
And so the two walked slowly down the street and up the long avenue towards the group of girls, who, in their airy evening dresses, stood watching them as they came.
“Where have you been this scorching afternoon?” Alice asked, with a cloud upon her face.
“I have been to read to old Mrs. Vandeusenhisen. I go there almost every day,” Gertie replied, as she went quietly into the house and up to her room to dress for dinner.
“And you have been reading to old Mrs. Van, too?” Alice asked of Godfrey, who replied by telling her what had happened to Bedouin.
“The weather was too hot and I rode too fast,” he said. “John warned me of the danger, but I did not listen, and now Bedouin is dead and I am two hundred dollars out of pocket, with a reputation for fastness and cruelty, no doubt, which would bring Bergh about my ears, if he were only here in Hampstead.”
“But are you hurt, Godfrey? Oh, I’m afraid you are. Look, your pants are all dirt,” Alice cried, clinging to him with a pretty affectation of concern, which, if the “demon had not been exorcised,” would have disgusted and made him angry, but which in his present mood he was inclined to humor and laugh at.
He had made up his mind to make the best of his situation and bear the burden bravely. Alice was his betrothed, and had a right to cling to him and be anxious if she chose, and he let her do it, and even wound his arm around her as he assured her of his perfect safety.
“Now, then, you must let me go and dress for dinner,” he said, as the first bell rang out its summons, and breaking away from her he ran up to his room, where he bathed his face and hands and said to himself, as he looked in the glass and saw how pale he was: