III
The following day Laurence returned on the mid-afternoon train, but stopped at his office, sending on a friend he had brought with him in a hack with the valises. This was Horace Lavery, a Chicago lawyer, rather a frequent visitor at the house. Mary was in the garden when the hack drove up, and came round to see if it were Laurence. She gave Lavery a stately, somewhat cool greeting. He was a man of middle age, florid and rather stout, gay and talkative. Always a little dashed at first by Mary's manner, he would speedily recover himself and amuse himself in his own way. Now, a little embarrassed, he said, after dismissing the hackman:
"Well, here I am again. Laurence stopped down town, he'll be home by seven.... Can I go upstairs and brush off, it was rather a dusty ride."
"Yes, but not the usual room, we have another visitor—the one next to it."
"And shall I find you here when I come down?"
"I'm working in the garden."
"Perhaps I can help?"
"If you do, you'll get yourself all dusty again."