He did not have a suspicion that Lady Bromley had made all these arrangements wholly on his account; that his sorrowful face and heavy eyes so haunted her that she resolved to give him just as little time as possible to dwell upon his trouble.
Thus it came to pass that they breakfasted and dined together, Gerald getting his luncheon down-town, near the office, while in the evening they almost invariably went out to some concert, lecture, or place of amusement, or had friends come to them.
In this way they grew to be more and more fond of each other, until the sweet, though lonely woman gradually came to regard the high-minded fellow with almost as much affection as if he had been her son; while he never failed to experience a feeling of restfulness and content in her presence.
One Sunday afternoon Gerald and his friend were sitting in Lady Bromley’s charming little parlor. The young man had been reading aloud from a new book that was just out, until, as the daylight began to wane, Gerald had observed that her ladyship had seemed somewhat restless, and several times had glanced rather wistfully around the room. At last, realizing that he was watching her, she broke forth with an apologetic little laugh:
“Gerald, I really must have a hassock. I have acquired the habit of using a foot-rest, and I shall not feel at home until I can get into my natural position. I shall go out to-morrow morning and buy three or four; then I can have one in every room.”
“Why did you not speak of it before?” Gerald inquired. “I would have supplied your needs with pleasure. Possibly I might find one in the house to-night for you. I will go and ask the clerk. Ah!”—with sudden thought—“I have the very thing for you; at least, it will answer your purpose until you are better equipped.”
With that he started up, and, going to his own room, took from his trunk the old-fashioned cricket that had belonged to his aunt.
With a smile of amusement over the antiquated appearance of the thing, he returned with it to his friend.
“It is as ‘old as the hills,’ and rather a shabby affair for a modern boudoir,” he remarked as he placed it conveniently for Lady Bromley, and then he told her the history of it, while she listened with curious interest.
“But for Aunt Honor’s wish that I would not part with it, because it was an heirloom which she prized, I would have gotten rid of it long ago,” he remarked, in conclusion. “It is a veritable ‘elephant’ upon my hands, for I usually carry it in my trunk wherever I go.”