ile Mr. Mortimer,
who went to London at nine o'clock every morning and did not return
till seven, was very seldom bothered by finding the young fellow
hanging about the house. Certainly he came pretty frequently between
the hours named, but it was, as the children could have witnessed, to
play with them. And, through his comings and goings, Mrs. Mortimer
moved with pleasure, vexation, self-contempt, and eagerness.

One night she and her husband went to dine with the Sterlings. After
dinner Mr. Mortimer accepted his host's invitation to stay for a smoke.
He saw no difficulty in his wife walking home alone; it was but half a
mile, and the night was fine and moonlit. Mrs. Mortimer made no
difficulty either, but Mrs. Sterling was sure that Harry would be
delighted to see Mrs. Mortimer to her house.

She liked the boy to learn habits of politeness, she said, and his
father eagerly proffered his escort, waving aside Mrs. Mortimer's
protest that she would not think of troubling Mr. Harry; throughout
which conversation Harry said nothing at all, but stood smiling, with
his hat in his hand, the picture of an obedient, well-mannered youth.
There are generally two ways anywhere, and there were two from the
Sterlings' to the Mortimers': the short one through the village, and
the long one round by the lane and across the Church meadow. The path
diverging to the latter route comes very soon after you leave the
Sterlings', and not a word had passed when Mrs. Mortimer and Harry
reached it. Still without a word, Harry turned off to follow the path.
Mrs. Mortimer glanced at him; Harry smiled.

"It's much longer," she said.

"There's lots of time," rejoined Harry, "and it's such a jolly night."
The better to enjoy the night's beauty, he slackened his pace to a very
crawl.

"It's rather dark; won't you take my arm?" he said.

"What nonsense! Why, I could see to read!"

"But I'm sure you're tired."

"How absurd you are! Was it a great bore?"

"What?"

"Why, coming."

"No," said Harry.

In such affairs monosyllables are danger signals. A long protestation
might have meant nothing: in this short, sufficient negative Mrs.
Mortimer recognized the boy's sincerity. A little thrill of pride and
shame, and perhaps something else, ran through her. The night was hot
and she unfastened the clasp of her cloak, breathing a trifle quickly.
To relieve the silence, she said, with a laugh:

"You see we poor married women have to de