ce held
the seeds of anxiety both for Biddy and for Nick, so that it was mainly
Miss Tressilian who had freedom of mind to throw off the theory that he
had come back that very hour--had arrived from a long journey. Couldn't
they see how strange he was and how brown, how burnt and how red, how
tired and how worn? They all inspected him, though Biddy declined Miss
Tressilian's glass; but he was evidently indifferent to notice and
finally Biddy, leaning back in her chair, dropped the fantastic words:

"He has come home to marry Juliet!"

Nick glanced at her and then replied: "What a disaster--to make such a
journey as that and to be late for the fair!"

"Late for the fair?"

"Why she's married--these three days. They did it very quietly; Miriam
says because her mother hated it and hopes it won't be much known! All
the same she's Basil Dashwood's wedded wife--he has come in just in time
to take the receipts for Juliet. It's a good thing, no doubt, for there
are at least two fortunes to be made out of her, and he'll give up the
stage." Nick explained to Miss Tressilian, who had inquired, that the
gentleman in question was the actor who was playing Mercutio, and he
asked Biddy if she hadn't known that this was what they were telling him
in Rosedale Road that morning. She replied that she had understood
nothing but that she was to be where she was, and she sank considerably
behind the drapery of the box. From this cover she was able to launch,
creditably enough, the exclamation:

"Poor, poor Peter!"

Nick got up and stood looking at poor, poor Peter. "He ought to come
round and speak to us, but if he doesn't see us I suppose he doesn't."
He quitted the box as to go to the restored exile, and I may add that as
soon as he had done so Florence Tressilian bounded over to the dusk in
which Biddy had nestled. What passed immediately between these young
ladies needn't concern us: it is sufficient to mention that two minutes
later Miss Tressilian broke out:

"Look at him, dearest; he's turning his head this way!"

"Thank you, I don't care to watch his turns," said Biddy; and she
doubtless demeaned herself in the high spirit of these words. It
nevertheless happened that directly afterwards she had certain knowledge
of his having glanced at his watch as if to judge how soon the curtain
would rise again, as well as of his having then jumped up and passed
quickly out of his place. The curtain had risen again without his
reappear