Litany of the Wood.
There were three men in the large square, solidly furnished room. Two of them were talking; the third was silent. It was a comfortable room—a library well filled with books. The men who talked were the host and his guest; he who was silent was the secretary, who wrote in the large bow window looking on the terrace, where sparrows quarrelled in the ivy, and the daffodils and nancies nodded in the soft blustering wind of late spring.
The secretary was a pale, shrewd-faced young man of twenty-eight; he was of middle height, not plain, nor yet comely, except for his eyes, which were very clear and quiet, and of a striking yellowish-grey. He was unobtrusively dressed, and very impassive, not to say dull, in manner. He was civil, however, attentive when he was spoken to; his voice was pleasant, and rather conciliatory in tone, as though he was deprecating anger.
He was writing letters in a small, neat hand, and showed no sign of hearing any conversation that was not addressed to him.
His employer was talking; he was a good talker, and a good lecturer. He was a very public-spirited person full of affairs and had just written a certain world-compelling pamphlet, which was intended to revolutionise thought in various unexpected quarters. He was a very well-known, much-applauded, and generally respected person.
He was talking to a guest who was less applauded because he was held to be soberly commonplace; nevertheless he too was generally respected, for he did nothing in particular, whether of good or evil, and was known to be very rich and growing richer.
He listened to his host, but an observant person would have noticed that he often glanced at the secretary.
When the host proposed a stroll before luncheon he rose; he was silent till they were on the terrace, then he said carelessly:
“That man of yours, Dexter, is a steady-looking fellow.”
“O yes; he’s steady and shrewd too. I believe him to be a good fellow in the main. Not quite reliable—as regards money matters some years ago. However, he was young, and he paid the penalty. I gave him a fresh start, and I’ve never repented it. I think bygones should be bygones.”