“Yes—that makes Le Duc Bigelow's son-in-law. You see, the Captain's daughter has been found in Chicago, and he's brought her back home. She was divorced from Bigelow a good while back.”
“Divorced from Bigelow!”
It dawned on Halloran that he was stirring the old gentleman's brain into a muddle, and he stopped.
“I guess we won't go into it now, John—I seem to be a little tired. It's strange—strange. More seems to have happened in these months than in all the rest of my life put together. But didn't I interrupt you a moment ago? What were you going to say?”
Halloran had no more than started, in that same altered voice, than a dress rustled behind him and Mr. Higginson broke in with: “Come in, my dear. Here is John Halloran.”
Mrs. Higginson, becomingly pale, a pink-and-white shawl drawn about her shoulders, came languidly in and took Halloran's hand. “Don't stand,” she said; “I heard your voice and thought I would come in for a moment. I am hardly able to get downstairs yet, but I try to walk about a little on this floor. Doctor Brown fairly orders me to keep very quiet, but I feel sure that a little exercise is the best thing. How are we ever to get about if we take no exercise? Don't you feel that draught, dear? John, would you mind shutting the door? I have to be a little careful about such things. I'm glad you've brought Mr. H. some good news. Doctor Brown said it was the one thing that might help him. 'Tell Mr. Halloran to come if he brings good news,' he said. 'If he doesn't, he'd better stay away.' Well, we've had a pretty serious time of it here, haven't we? I told Mr. H. he simply must get well—for what was to become of Mamie and me if he didn't. We haven't seen much of you lately, John. Of course, things have been rather broken up with my sickness, and Mr. H.'s., but I am sure Mamie would have been glad to see you any time.”
“John has been away,” said Mr. Higginson.
There was a pause, and Halloran, seeing his opportunity, girded up his courage and plunged forward. “It's been a pretty important trip to me,” he began. This was clumsy, but it was go ahead or nothing with him now, and he went ahead. “Since I went away—I went down to see Margaret Davies, of Evanston; she has been staying down there, in the mountains—and she has promised to be my wife.”
The words were out. Mr. Higginson sat up straight in his chair and stared at him. Mrs. Higginson leaned back and stared. Halloran could only turn red. Finally, Mrs. Higginson, the first to recover, repeated the name, “Margaret Davies! I've never heard any Evanston people speak of her. Has her family lived there long?”
“Yes, all her life”