He furthermore had expressed the opinion that it was quite impossible that Miss Le Breton’s mind had ever been clouded. She was not even neurotic. There had been some big mistake or some big deception, Mrs. Barrimore had arrived at precisely the same opinion.
Things had developed so far during Philip’s stay in Brighton that when he arrived at Hawk’s Nest he found the White House folk lunching there.
He did not enter the dining-room until he had made an unusually careful toilet. This was a new departure for Philip, who had been rather careless of his personal appearance during the last months.
He tried on three ties from his bag before he was satisfied with one. He arranged his hair carefully, noting the while that it wanted cutting, and regretting that he had not seen to it. He shaved, although he had already shaved that day, and scrutinized his features in the glass, wondering if he looked his best clean-shaven. He decided that he did. His mouth was good, and he needed not to hide it by a moustache. His chin was strong. Yes, it was by no means a bad-looking face that he saw reflected in the glass.
He was glad that Colonel Lane was not of the party. He had ascertained that fact from the parlor-maid. She had told him that Colonel Lane had gone back to Dulwich, as his friend Colonel Henderson had had a relapse.
When quite satisfied with his appearance, Philip went down to the dining-room, where the tender mother was of course the first to welcome her boy. Her loving arms were about him the moment he entered the room. Her heart harbored no resentment for his cold and even cruel behavior when he had parted with her. He did not forget, however, and a flush of genuine shame came to his face as he remembered his words to her, “Women never know when a man wants to be left alone.”
He had now had quite enough of being left alone. Never for months had he greeted his mother so affectionately, and to his credit be it recorded, that it was not done because the eyes of the woman with whom he wanted to “stand well,” were upon him.
When the mother, radiant, and with one of those lovely blushes on her cheek, had gone back to her seat; when Mrs. Le Breton, Mr. Alvin and “Aimée” had been duly greeted, and Uncle Robert had made Philip’s hand tingle by a hearty grip, Philip took his place with the rest.
“It is good to be home,” he said.
“‘East or West, home’s best,’” quoted Uncle Robert.