It was not till a few days after this that Meredith’s growing strength permitted a reference to the circumstances of his “illness,” as they all called it, which, of course, was not at all concerted, but occurred quite unintentionally in the course of the conversation. One or two things had been said before he took any part in the talk himself. At length, rousing himself from a sort of reverie, he said.
“How was it, I wonder, that I was so lucky as to be knocked down at your door? Whoever the man was, he did me a good turn there; but how was it that I was found at your door? It was not in the evening, you say—which would have explained itself.”
“It was about five o’clock,” said Julia, suddenly interposing. She had treasured up all the details in her mind.
“About five o’clock!” said Meredith, looking round him with elevated eyebrows. “Now, tell me, some one, what could I be doing at five o’clock at this door?”
“And you were expected to dinner at half-past seven,” said Julia again.
“Evidently,” said Meredith, “she has entered into the mystery of the situation. What was I doing at five o’clock, being expected at half-past seven, at this door?”
“I have often thought of it,” said Gussy, “and wondered if you were coming to say you could not come to dinner. You had clients who stopped you several times before.”
He gave her a glance and laughed, but Gussy was quite unsuspicious, and instanced the clients in perfect good faith.
“Poor clients!” he said; “they have been left to themselves for a long time, but they don’t seem to have been clamoring for me. I don’t think it could be that.”
“Perhaps you were going to call somewhere in the neighborhood,” suggested Mrs. Harwood.