“Tell me, Chichester, is that chattel mortgage all arranged?” she asked in an urgent whisper.
He nodded affirmatively, and her heart bounded with relief. “I’ll bring you the papers; stay, on second thought you had better come to the office.” He saw the shadow that crossed her face, and added reproachfully, “Am I so hateful to you?”
“That’s a debatable question,” she parried, avoiding his glance. By an effort he checked a bitter retort as she pulled back the portière, and, his face resuming its customary smiling mask, he followed her into the dining-room.
They found Madame Yvonett deep in conversation with Duncan.
“Thee sees we have friends in common,” she announced, filling two glasses with the frothy beverage before her. “Help thyself to the sandwiches, Friend Barnard.” In spite of Chichester Barnard’s many attempts to ingratiate himself with the Quakeress, she had never dropped the formal address with him, although she had known his relatives for many years. “Where is thy Cousin Rebekah, Marjorie?”
“I ’specs dat’s Miss Becky at de do’ now,” volunteered Minerva, emerging from the pantry as the bell sounded. “She done said she’d be back drickly.”
“Ask her to come right in here,” called Madame Yvonett. “Ah, Becky,” seeing the spinster appear in the doorway. “Thee must be cold, come and have a glass of eggnog.”
But Miss Rebekah declined the offer with some asperity; she considered eggnog the “devil’s brew,” and, but that a certain fear of Madame Yvonett’s displeasure restrained her, would then and there have delivered a forceful homily on strong drink. She had met Chichester Barnard on previous visits, and was a staunch admirer of the handsome lawyer, whose resemblance to her hero, Byron, made a strong appeal to her latent sentimentality. He greeted her warmly, and after Duncan was introduced, placed a chair for her next his own.
“Where has thee been, Becky?” asked Madame Yvonett, turning back from giving directions to Minerva to bring the spinster a cup of weak tea.
“I ran over to ask Admiral Lawrence if there was anything I could do for him,” explained Miss Rebekah. “Margaret Lawrence was my cousin, and being her only relative in Washington I thought it was the least I could do.”