第100章

He looked at her with a hard glance, recalling as a fresh grievance the ten days of intolerable boredom he had spent cooped up in a ridiculous little tent with her, at the camp-meeting.She must have realized at the time how odious the enforced companionship was to him.

Yes, beyond doubt she did.It came back to him now that they had spoken but rarely to each other.She had not even praised his sermon upon the Sabbath-question, which every one else had been in raptures over.For that matter she no longer praised anything he did, and took obvious pains to preserve toward him a distant demeanor.

So much the better, he felt himself thinking.If she chose to behave in that offish and unwifely fashion, she could blame no one but herself for its results.

She had seen him, and came now to the window, watering-pot and broom in hand.She put her head out, to breathe a breath of dustless air, and began as if she would smile on him.Then her face chilled and stiffened, as she caught his look.

"Shall you be home for supper?" she asked, in her iciest tone.

He had not thought of going out before.The question, and the manner of it, gave immediate urgency to the idea of going somewhere."I may or I may not," he replied.

"It is quite impossible for me to say." He turned on his heel with this, and walked briskly out of the yard and down the street.

It was the most natural thing that presently he should be strolling past the Madden house, and letting a covert glance stray over its front and the grounds about it, as he loitered along.Every day since his return from the woods he had given the fates this chance of bringing Celia to meet him, without avail.He had hung about in the vicinity of the Catholic church on several evenings as well, but to no purpose.The organ inside was dumb, and he could detect no signs of Celia's presence on the curtains of the pastorate next door.

This day, too, there was no one visible at the home of the Maddens, and he walked on, a little sadly.

It was weary work waiting for the signal that never came.

But there were compensations.His mind reverted doggedly to the flowers in his garden, and to Alice's behavior toward him.

They insisted upon connecting themselves in his thoughts.

Why should Levi Gorringe, a money-lender, and therefore the last man in the world to incur reckless expenditure, go and buy perhaps a hundred dollars, worth of flowers for his wife's garden? It was time--high time--to face this question.And his experiencing religion afterward, just when Alice did, and marching down to the rail to kneel beside her--that was a thing to be thought of, too.

Meditation, it is true, hardly threw fresh light upon the matter.It was incredible, of course, that there should be anything wrong.To even shape a thought of Alice in connection with gallantry would be wholly impossible.

Nor could it be said that Gorringe, in his new capacity as a professing church-member, had disclosed any sign of ulterior motives, or of insincerity.Yet there the facts were.While Theron pondered them, their mystery, if they involved a mystery, baffled him altogether.

But when he had finished, he found himself all the same convinced that neither Alice nor Gorringe would be free to blame him for anything he might do.He had grounds for complaint against them.If he did not himself know just what these grounds were, it was certain enough that THEY knew.Very well, then, let them take the responsibility for what happened.

It was indeed awkward that at the moment, as Theron chanced to emerge temporarily from his brown-study, his eyes fell full upon the spare, well-knit form of Levi Gorringe himself, standing only a few feet away, in the staircase entrance to his law office.His lean face, browned by the summer's exposure, had a more Arabian aspect than ever.His hands were in his pockets, and he held an unlighted cigar between his teeth.He looked the Rev.Mr.Ware over calmly, and nodded recognition.

Theron had halted instinctively.On the instant he would have given a great deal not to have stopped at all.

It was stupid of him to have paused, but it would not do now to go on without words of some sort.He moved over to the door-way, and made a half-hearted pretence of looking at the photographs in one of the show-cases at its side.

As Mr.Gorringe did not take his hands from his pockets, there was no occasion for any formal greeting.

"I had no idea that they took such good pictures in Octavius,"Theron remarked after a minute's silence, still bending in examination of the photographs.

"They ought to; they charge New York prices,"observed the lawyer, sententiously.

Theron found in the words confirmation of his feeling that Gorringe was not naturally a lavish or extravagant man.

Rather was he a careful and calculating man, who spent money only for a purpose.Though the minister continued gazing at the stiff presentments of local beauties and swains, his eyes seemed to see salmon-hued hollyhocks and spotted lilies instead.Suddenly a resolve came to him.

He stood erect, and faced his trustee.

"Speaking of the price of things," he said, with an effort of arrogance in his measured tone, "I have never had an opportunity before of mentioning the subject of the flowers you have so kindly furnished for my--for MY garden.""Why mention it now?" queried Gorringe, with nonchalance.

He turned his cigar about with a movement of his lips, and worked it into the corner of his mouth.He did not find it necessary to look at Theron at all.

"Because--" began Mr.Ware, and then hesitated--"because--well, it raises a question of my being under obligation, which I--""Oh, no, sir," said the lawyer; "put that out of your mind.

You are no more under obligation to me than I am to you.

Oh, no, make yourself easy about that.Neither of us owes the other anything.""Not even good-will--I take that to be your meaning,"retorted Theron, with some heat.

"The words are yours, sir," responded Gorringe, coolly.

"I do not object to them."