“It must be a parcel or something,” said Gussy, “or perhaps a telegram from Dolff to say when he is coming. He is fond of telegrams—It is some one coming in,” she said, after a pause, raising her head.
“Perhaps it’s Dolff himself,” said Julia, getting up with one spring from the rug. She rushed to the door, while they all watched. Julia opened it, looked out, and closed it again with indignation. “After all, it’s Charley Meredith again,” said the young lady, “and now, I suppose, we shall have to go to bed.”
Gussy rose up, her quietness all gone. She said, “Ah!” in an indescribable tone, as if coming from the bottom of her heart.
“Ju, how rude you are, shutting the door in his face!” said Mrs. Harwood. “You seem to wish to make the very worst impression, as if you were a savage. Well, Charley! this is a surprise. We made sure we should not see you to-night.”
“I hope it’s not disagreeable,” said Meredith, coming in briskly with his roll of music, as usual. He managed, even in that first moment, to give a side glance at Janet, which she somehow caught trembling under her eyelids. Oh, it might be fun! but it was horrid, too. She felt herself a conspirator, a deceiver, all that was most dreadful, and did not dare to raise her eyes. But nothing could be more assured and easy than his explanation. “I found I could shake off my man sooner than I expected. Talks about business, don’t you know, Mrs. Harwood—you ought to know—mean endless maundering on one side, and half-a-dozen words on the other. If your advice is worth anything, it can always be said in half-a-dozen words.”
“I would never hurry a client, Charley,” said Mrs. Harwood, shaking her head; “in all I’ve had to do with the law I’ve always seen that; and my brother, who, you know, was a Q.C., always said so. Never hurry a client; let them get it all out.”
“Oh, I think he got it all out, and we parted the best of friends. He’s only in town for a few days, and he wanted to go to the theatre; so I took him to the ‘Gayety,’ and gave him my blessing. And here I am, not much later than usual. I beg your pardon, Miss Summerhayes, I did not see you. How do you do to-night?”
What a look he gave her as, pretending to see her for the first time, he made a step in her direction. Gussy afterwards took him much to task for slighting the governess.
“Just because she is the governess one ought to be more than usually attentive not to hurt her feelings,” said Gussy.
But, then, she did not see that look, which so tempted Janet to laughter, yet overwhelmed her with a sense of guilt. His eyebrows went up almost into his hair as he looked at Janet. He gave her the slightest nod of understanding. “You see!” he seemed to say. Janet felt herself drawn into his circle, made his comrade, his confidant. And it was funny; but, oh, so horrid, too!