THAT evening Gilbert found his sister-in-law well of her headache, and disposed to celebrate the charm of a headache that always went off with the going down of the sun. He responded at random, and then she began to talk to him of Easton, and he listened with a restlessness which she could not help noticing. “You don’t seem to care to sing the praises of your idol, this evening,” she said.
“One can’t always be singing the praises of one’s idols,” he answered, “if you like to call them so. One wants a little variety. You know how the Neapolitans give themselves up to comfortable cursing in the case of saints who don’t indicate the winning lottery numbers.”
“I don’t exactly see the application, William, but I’m always ready to curse anybody; and we will devote Mr. Easton to a little malediction. Have you had a tiff?”
“I thought you were going to curse, and you commence questioning.”
“That’s true; my curiosity is uppermost. Do tell me about it. I suppose Mrs. Farrell is somehow at the bottom of it. I wouldn’t have such a friendship as yours and Easton’s on any account. It has cost too much. I wonder you haven’t assassinated each other long ago.”
“I’m glad your headache’s gone,” said Gilbert.
“Yes, that’s gone—thanks to the sunset or the headache pill. But I’m getting what no pill has yet been patented for; I mean a heartache, and for you, my poor boy. Oh, you open book! Don’t you suppose I can read where that woman has written Finis in her high-shouldered English hand against the chapter of your friendship with Easton?”
“You are taking it seriously, Susan.”
“Well, well. See if I’m not right. I thought you told me your friend was afraid of ladies. Mrs. Farrell seems to have persuaded him that they’re not so dangerous. He’s been here all afternoon. Oh, one can know such a thing as that even with the headache in a darkened room. No, not the whole afternoon; they were gone a long while on a walk. He follows her all about with his eyes when she won’t let him follow on foot; he’s making a perfect trophy of himself. That’s the report.”
“Very likely,” said Gilbert. “Easton never does things by halves.”