Merriam blankly perceived that the sitting room was empty--of Mollie June.
"She has a slight headache," said Alicia kindly--suffering still, we may hope, from pangs of conscience.
Aunt Mary was sitting in the senatorial armchair, which had been turned about to face the rest of the room. She looked long and hard at Merriam--an intensification of that close scrutiny with which, it seemed to him, she had always distinguished him. Merriam, in his bath robe, sustained it awkwardly but manfully. Alicia and Rockwell were standing. The silence was rather portentous.
"Sit down, all of you," said Aunt Mary suddenly.
The three younger persons present--even Rockwell seemed youthful beside Aunt Mary in her dominant mood--rather hurriedly found seats.
"Is the door locked, Philip?"
Rockwell rose, went to the hall door, turned the key, and returned to his chair.
"Tell him," said Aunt Mary.
Rockwell's budget of news was certainly considerable and important.
In the first place, George Norman was "better." Rockwell and Aunt Mary had gone to see him at Jennie's after the Reform League luncheon. That was why they were so late. He undoubtedly had a touch of bronchitis, with some fever and a cough, but seemed to be improving. He could be brought back to the hotel that evening. Aunt Mary had sat down by his bed and told him briefly but plainly of the happenings at the hotel the previous evening, and had extorted a feeble, amazed acquiescence in the astonishing turn which had been given to his career--an acquiescence which she had immediately communicated by telephone from Jennie's to Mayor Black.