“You don't know Barney, Mrs. Charrington,” said Iola; “nothing can ever change him.”
“Pish! You think so, and so, doubtless, does he. But none the less it is sheer nonsense. Can you tell me the trouble?”
“No, I think not,” said Iola softly.
“Very well. As you like, my dear. Few things are the better for words. If ever you wish to come to me I shall be ready. Now let us dismiss the thing till after dinner. Disagreeable thoughts hinder digestion, I have found, and nothing is quite worth that.”
With such resolution did she follow her own suggestion that, during the drive and throughout the dinner hour and, indeed, until the moment of her departure, Iola was not permitted to indulge her anxious thoughts, but with Mrs. Duff Charrington's assistance she succeeded in keeping them deep in her heart under guard.
As Mrs. Duff Charrington kissed her good-night she whispered:
“Don't face any issue to-night. Don't settle anything. Give time a chance. Time is a wonderfully wise old party.”
And Iola, sitting back in the carriage, decided she would act upon the advice which suited so thoroughly her own habit of mind. That Barney had made up his mind to a line of action she knew. She would set herself to gain time, and yet she was fearful of the issue of the interview before her. The fear and anxiety which she had been holding down for the last two hours came over her in floods. As she thought of Barney's last words she found herself searching wildly, but in vain, for motives with which to brace her strength. If he had only been angry! But that sad, tender solicitude in his voice unnerved her. He was not thinking of himself, she knew. He was, as ever, thinking of and for her.
A storm of wind and rain was rapidly drawing on, but she heeded not the big drops driving into her face, nor did she notice that before she reached her door she was quite wet. She found Barney waiting for her. As she entered he arose and stood silent.
“Barney!” she exclaimed, and paused, waiting. But there was no reply.