“It is from Stanor. He has sailed for home. Honor Ward and a party of friends were crossing, and he decided at the last moment to come with them. We shall see him on Thursday next.”
Chapter Twenty Five.
Stanor comes back.
It was Thursday morning. With the doctor’s permission Pat’s bed had been carried back to the minute apartment which was grandiloquently termed a “dressing-room.” A sofa took its place in the dining-room, and with the aid of a stick he could walk from one refuge to another, and enjoy what—after the confinement of the past months—appeared quite an exciting variety of scene.
Bridgie Victor was still a joint occupant of the “best” bedroom, for since Pat refused to part with Pixie it was plainly the elder sister’s duty to stay on over the important meeting with Stanor Vaughan. The modern girl scoffs at the idea of chaperonage, but the O’Shaughnessys were not modern. Bridgie felt the impulse to protect, and Pixie’s piteous “Stay with me, Bridgie!” marked the one moment of weakness which she had shown. So Bridgie remained in London, comforted by the knowledge that her husband was well and her children in good hands, and seldom in her life had five days passed so slowly. Sunday itself had seemed a week long, the atmosphere strained and unreal, each member of the little party talking to pass the time, uttering platitudes, and discussing every imaginable subject under the sun but just the one which filled every mind. No need to bid Pixie to be discreet, to warn her not to sing, nor glance too frequently in a certain direction—a talking automaton could not have shown less sign of feeling.
As for Stephen Glynn, the news of his nephew’s sudden return obviously came to him as a shock, but as a man of the world he was an adept in hiding his feelings, and though he curtailed his visit, so long as he was in the flat he exerted himself to preserve an ordinary demeanour. His adieux also were of the most commonplace description.
“It’s hardly worth while to say good-bye. We shall meet, we shall certainly meet before long. I will write to welcome Stanor, and you—” he held Pixie’s hand and looked down at her with an inquiring glance—“you will let me hear your—news?”
“I will,” answered Pixie simply.