“I beg your pardon, Mother.” Judith awoke from dreary thoughts. “I did not mean to be rude, but our—our mourning”—glancing down at her black dress—“seems so incongruous here. We should have found a less conspicuous place to dine.”
“Tut! you are supersensitive; we must eat and why not here? We are not giving a dinner.” Mrs. Hale paused to bow to an acquaintance. “Robert and your husband went to the club so that we would not have even an appearance of a party. Why, there is Frank Latimer. Wave to him, Judith.”
Not waiting for her suggestion to be followed, Mrs. Hale signaled vigorously with her fan and succeeded in catching the eye of the attentive major-domo who, guessing her meaning, directed Latimer’s attention to her table. Mrs. Hale greeted the stockbroker with a cordial smile.
“Join us, Frank,” she exclaimed, as their waitress placed a chair for him. Latimer cast a doubtful eye at an adjoining table.
“That is my habitual place,” he explained. “I dine here every night.”
“Fortunate man, with no domestic problems,” sighed Mrs. Hale. “Really, Anna could not have selected a more unfortunate time to fall downstairs—or was it upstairs, Judith?”
“I don’t know, Mother.” Judith had changed color at Latimer’s approach as memory of her interview in his office, the conversation she had overheard the night before, and her letter explaining the bond transaction recurred to her. “Anna is so seldom ill that we can forgive her this once.” She raised grave eyes to Latimer. “Do dine with us, Frank.”
Latimer had only opportunity to murmur his thanks as Mrs. Hale took possession of the situation and claimed his undivided attention. As the meal progressed he stole a look now and then at Judith. Her preoccupation was evident and the furtive glances she cast about the big dining room were indicative of her nervous condition. Latimer’s anxiety grew. Would Mrs. Hale never give him a chance for a private word with Judith? After the receipt of her note that morning he had tried to write an answer, but, after a vain attempt to crystallize his thoughts into black ink, he had thrown down his pen and applied to that mixed blessing, the telephone, only to be told that Judith was not at home.
If Judith divined his desire to talk with her she gave no sign of it. Latimer’s anxiety was tinged with vexation. Was Judith deliberately avoiding every effort he made to drag her into the conversation? His hot temper was gaining the upper hand when Mrs. Hale unconsciously gave him the opening he had been hoping for.
“How is the stock market?” she asked, and not waiting for an answer, added, “Did you purchase those Liberty Bonds Robert spoke of last week?”