With a wonderful smile she had dropped his hands and gone in at the entrance, when a sound made them turn, the humming of a motor. And even as they looked it swung into Park Street.
“It's a taxicab!” she said. As she spoke it drew up almost beside them, instead of turning in at the driveway, the door opened, and a man alighted.
“Preston!” Alison exclaimed.
He started, turning from the driver, whom he was about to pay. As for Hodder, he was not only undergoing a certain shock through the sudden contact, at such a moment, with Alison's brother: there was an additional shock that this was Alison's brother and Eldon Parr's son. Not that his appearance was shocking, although the well-clad, athletic figure was growing a trifle heavy, and the light from the side lamps of the car revealed dissipation in a still handsome face. The effect was a subtler one, not to be analyzed, and due to a multitude of preconceptions.
Alison came forward.
“This is Mr. Hodder, Preston,” she said simply.
For a moment Preston continued to stare at the rector without speaking. Suddenly he put out his hand.
“Mr. Hodder, of St. John's?” he demanded.
“Yes,” answered Hodder. His surprise deepened to perplexity at the warmth of the handclasp that followed.
A smile that brought back vividly to Hodder the sunny expression of the schoolboy in the picture lightened the features of the man.