"I knew you would go back!"
"I am not sure that I shall go."
She said perfunctorily: "Of course you must go—will you go back to Rome? I shall be so glad to think you are doing what you want to do."
He turned the matter off with a laugh:—
"The dear old boy thinks two months out of a year is long enough to give to composing an opera. It's like fishing,—a few weeks now and then if you can afford it!"
"But you wouldn't have to stay here at all, if you made up your mind not to," she remarked with a touch of hardness. "They'll give you what you want."
"I am not sure that I want it," he replied slowly, "at the price."
She looked at him uncomprehendingly, then perceiving another meaning in his words, lowered her eyes. She was thinking swiftly, 'If we could both go!' But he was reflecting rather bitterly on that new wealth which his father had given him, the dollars piling up to his credit, not one of which he might use as he most dearly desired to use them—for her! With all this power within his easy reach he could not stretch forth his hand to save a human soul. For thus he conceived the woman's need.
It came to Mrs. Conry's last engagement,—the last possible excuse for her lingering in the city. It was a suburban affair, and the place was difficult to reach. Vickers had invited the Falkners to go with them, to prevent gossip, and Bessie willingly accepted as a spree, though she had confided to Isabelle that "Mrs. Conry was dreadful ordinary," "not half good enough for our adorable Vickers to afficher himself with." Nevertheless, she was very sweet to the beautiful Mrs. Conry, as was Bessie's wont to be with pretty nearly all the world. It was late on their return, and the Falkners left them at the station. With the sense that to-night they must part, they walked slowly towards the hotel, then stopped at a little German restaurant for supper. They looked at each other across the marble-top table without speaking. The evening had been a depressing conclusion to the concert season they had had together. And that morning Vickers had found it impossible to arrange a meeting for Mrs. Conry with the director of a famous orchestra, who happened to be in the city.
"You must go to-morrow?" Vickers asked at last. "I may get a reply from
Moller any day."