In fact, she looked upon the result of her experiment with no little pride. Each afternoon the two might be seen on the ball-room floor, working away as if their lives depended upon it, with the Victrola repeating over and over the same tunes which, except for her own persistency, would have driven Edith mad. Always after the dancing lesson they promenaded the hotel piazza "to cool off," and their joint devotion to their undertaking was so assiduous that it became almost a feature of the hotel life. Edith's triumph came when Merry was called in to "assist" at one of the later lessons. Try as they would, Cosden and his new partner were at odds in each effort they made to dance together, while with Edith he succeeded passably well. In Cosden's mind there could be but one explanation.
"I always thought she knew how to dance," he expressed it after Merry left them alone. "How little you can judge of anything until you know how to do it yourself!" And Edith, wise person that she was, did not explain to him that this was the first time he had danced without her guiding hand!
Cosden had become dependent upon his chief adviser in other ways than dancing. He found her so sympathetic in listening to his problems and so helpfully intelligent in discussing them that he gradually confided to her more of his intimate affairs than he had ever shared with any one else. Ostensibly, she was adviser only in his affair with Merry, but it was a short step to extend her line of operations without having him realize that she was exceeding her contract. She explained matters which seemed subtle to him with such clearness, her counsels were so wise and her criticisms so fearless that Cosden's admiration was profound.
"You are a bit severe, you know," he said to her one day; "but I like it. The only reason I go to a specialist is because I know he understands his subject better than I do, and so I swallow what he tells me, hook, line and sinker. And you are a great success as an expert in your line, Miss Stevens,—you're all right."
Whereupon Edith courtesied gracefully and answered demurely, "Thank you, sir; I am glad I give satisfaction."
Thatcher and Cosden had carried the trolley proposition as far as lay within their power, and awaited a response from the Bermuda government before they could proceed. This threw Cosden back again upon his original purpose, to which he clung with a bulldog tenacity. Edith knew by this time that when his mind once settled upon a course diversion was an impossibility, so she encouraged rather than opposed him. She left Cosden's confidence in himself undisturbed while she encouraged his dependence, and complacently permitted affairs to take their course. Just when the master stroke would be delivered she could not tell, but she was prepared to have it descend suddenly at any moment.
The fortnight had given Huntington a new lease of life. His efforts to humanize Hamlen forced him out of his habitual course along the line of least resistance, and without analyzing his new sensations he found them to be agreeable. In addition to this Merry and he were boon companions now, and he discovered that the vivacity of a young girl was no less effective in making him forget his years than the noisier enthusiasm of his youthful nephew. Merry accepted her responsibilities with great seriousness, and discussed Hamlen's persistent obstinacy with Huntington from every possible angle. In fact, Huntington made a point of inventing new angles in order to prolong the discussions, and to supply the excuse for walks and drives which threw them much together.
As a result of their growing intimacy Huntington came to favor Billy's ambitions far above those of Cosden. He had not changed in his conviction that neither one of them was at all suited to the girl, but if it could be possible to hold matters in abeyance until the boy might be developed up to her, there would at least be much satisfaction to him personally if Merry could be kept in the family. Of course he must be loyal to his friend, but as Cosden seemed to be finding much pleasure in Miss Stevens' companionship his conscience did not suffer any twinges which were too painful to be endured.
But complacency is ever a forerunner of seismic upheavals. The days had repeated themselves often enough now for Huntington to regard their routine as practically fixed, and he was anticipating the usual quiet, after-breakfast smoke on the piazza, during which period he would discuss with Merry some new attack upon Hamlen's obstinacy, or some new trip during which the attack could be devised. This had seemed such a certainty to Huntington that Cosden's words were in the nature of a shock.
"Miss Thatcher and I are going sailing this morning," he announced.