he asked eagerly, facing me. "You look your
natural self--not tired or worried--so it must have been not so bad as you
feared."
"If our friend Langdon hadn't slipped away, I might not look and feel so
comfortable," said I. "His brother blundered, and there was no one to
checkmate my moves." She seemed nearer to me, more in sympathy with me than
ever before.
"I can't tell you how glad I am!"
Her eyes were wide and bright, as from some great excitement, and her color
was high. Once my attention was on it, I knew instantly that only some
extraordinary upheaval in that household could have produced the fever that
was blazing in her. Never had I seen her in any such mood as this.
"What is it?" I asked. "What has happened?"
"If anything disagreeable should be said or done this evening here," she
said, "I want you to promise me that you'll restrain yourself, and not say
or do any of those things that make me--that jar on me. You understand?"
"I am always myself," replied I. "I can't be anybody else."
"But you are--several different kinds of self," she insisted. "And
please--this evening don't be _that_ kind. It's coming into your eyes
and chin now."
I had lifted my head and looked round, probably much like the leader of a
horned herd at the scent of danger.
"Is this better?" said I, trying to look the thoughts I had no difficulty
in getting to the fore whenever my eyes were on her.
Her smile rewarded me. But it disappeared, gave place to a look of nervous
alarm, of terror even, at the rustling, or, rather, bustling, of skirts in
the hall--there was war in the very sound, and I felt it. Mrs. Ellersly
appeared, bearing her husband as a dejected trailer invisibly but firmly
coupled. She acknowledged my salutation with a stiff-necked nod, ignored my
extended hand. I saw that she wished to impress upon me that she was a very
grand lady indeed; but, while my ideas of what constitutes a lady were at
that time somewhat befogged by my snobbishness, she failed dismally. She
looked just what she was--a mean, bad-tempered woman, in a towering rage.
"You have forced me, Mr. Blacklock," said she, and then I knew for just
what purpose that voice of hers was best adapted--"to say to you what I
should have preferred to write. Mr. Ellersly has had brought to his ears
matters in connection with your private life that make it imperative that
you discontinue your calls here."
"My private life, ma'am?" I repeated. "I was no
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