“Will you wait any longer, sir?” inquired Grimes, who hovered3 solicitously4 in the background. “I'm afraid, sir, your eggs will be over-done.”
“Bring them along,” directed McIntyre, and flung himself into his chair at the foot of the table. He had been seated but a few minutes when Barbara appeared and dutifully presented her cheek to be kissed, then she tripped lightly to Helen's place opposite her father, and pressed the electric bell for Grimes.
“Coffee, please,” she said as that worthy5 appeared, and busied herself in arranging the cups and saucers. “Helen is taking her breakfast upstairs,” she explained to her father.
“How about Mrs. Brewster?”
“Still asleep.” Barbara poured out her father's coffee with careful attention to detail. “I peeked6 into her room a moment ago and she looked so 'comfy' I hadn't the heart to awaken7 her. You must have been very late at the club last night.”
“We got home a little after one o'clock.”
McIntyre helped himself to poached eggs and bacon. “What did you do last night?”
“Went to bed early,” answered Barbara with brevity. “Helen wasn't feeling well.”
McIntyre's handsome face showed concern as he glanced across the table. “Have you sent for Dr. Stone?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Helen—I—we”—Barbara stumbled in her speech. “We have taken an aversion to Dr. Stone.”
“What!” he exclaimed in complete astonishment9, and regarded her fixedly10 for a moment. His tolerant manner, which he frequently assumed toward Barbara, grew stern. “Dr. Stone is my personal friend, as well as our family physician—”
“And a cousin of Margaret Brewster,” put in Barbara mildly.
“Well, what of it?” trenchantly11, aware that he had colored at mention of the widow's name. “Nothing,” Barbara's eyes opened innocently. “I only recalled the fact of his relationship as you enumerated12 his virtues13.”
Colonel McIntyre transferred his regard from her to the butler. “You need not wait, Grimes.” He remained silent until the servant was safely in the pantry, and then addressed his daughter. “None of your tricks, Barbara,” he cautioned. “If Helen is ill enough to require medical attention, Dr. Stone is to be sent for, regardless of your sudden dislike to him, for which, by the way, you have given no cause.”
“Haven't I?” Barbara folded her napkin with neat exactness. “It's—it's intangible.”
“Pooh!” McIntyre gave a short laugh, as he pushed back his chair. “I'm going to see Helen. And Barbara,” stopping on his way to the door, “don't be a fool.”
Barbara rubbed the tiny mole14 under the lobe15 of her ear, a trick she had when absent-minded or in deep thought. “Helen,” she announced, unaware16 that she spoke17 loud, “shall have a physician, but it won't be—why, Grimes,” awakening18 to the servant's noiseless return. “You can take the breakfast dishes. Did Miss Helen eat anything?”
“Not very much, miss.” Grimes shook a troubled head. “But she done better than at dinner last night, so she's picking up, and don't you be worried over her,” with emphasis, as he sidled nearer. “Tell me, miss, is the colonel courtin' Mrs. Brewster?”
“Ask him,” she suggested and smiled at the consternation19 which spread over the butler's face.
“Me, miss!” he exclaimed in horror. “It would be as much as my place is worth; the colonel's that quick-tempered. Why, miss, just because I tidied up his desk and put his papers to rights he flew into a terrible passion.”
“When was that?”
“Early this morning, miss; and he so upset Thomas, miss, that he gave notice.”
“Oh, that's too bad.” Barbara liked the second man. “Perhaps father will reconsider and persuade him to stay.”
The butler looked unconvinced. “It was about the police dogs,” he confided20 to her. “Thomas told him that Miss Helen wanted them brought back, and the colonel swore at him—'twas more than Thomas could stand and he ups and goes.” Barbara halted half way to the door. “Did Thomas get the dogs?”
“You wait and see, miss.” Grimes was guilty of a most undignified wink21. “Thomas ain't forgiven himself for not being here Monday night, miss; though it wouldn't a done him any good; he wouldn't a heard Mr. Turnbull climbing in or his arrest, away upstairs in the servants' quarters.”
“Grimes,” Barbara retracted22 her footsteps and placed her lips very close to the old servant's ear.
“When I came in on Tuesday morning I found the door to the attic23 stairway standing24 partly open...
The butler cocked his ear for her answer—he was sometimes a little hard of hearing; but he waited in vain, Barbara had disappeared inside the library.
Colonel McIntyre had not gone at once to see his daughter Helen, as Barbara had supposed from his remark, instead he went down the staircase and into the reception room on the ground floor. It was generally used as a smoking room and lounge, but when entertaining was done, cloaks and wraps were left there. McIntyre looked over the prettily26 upholstered furniture, then strolled to the window and carefully inspected the lock; it appeared in perfect order as he tested it. Pushing the catch back as far as it would go, he raised the window—the sash moved upward without a sound, and he leaned out and looked up and down the path which ran the depth of the house to the kitchen door and servants' entrance. There was an iron gate separating the path from the sidewalk, always kept locked at night, and McIntyre had thought that sufficient protection and had not put an iron grille in the window.
McIntyre closed and locked the window, then pulling out the gilt27 chair which stood in front of the desk, he sat down, selected some monogrammed paper and penned a few lines in his characteristic though legible writing. Picking up some red sealing wax, he lighted the small candle in its brass28 holder29 which matched the rest of the desk ornaments30, but before heating the wax he looked for his signet ring, and frowned when he recalled leaving it on his dresser. He hesitated a moment, then catching31 sight of a silver seal lying at the back of the desk he picked it up and moistened the initial. A few minutes later he blew out the candle, returned the wax and seal to a pigeon hole, and carefully placed the envelope with its well stamped letter “B” in his coat pocket, and tramped upstairs.
Helen heard his heavy tread coming down the hall toward her room, and scrambled32 back to bed. She had but time to arrange her dressing33 sacque when her father walked in.
“Good morning, my dear,” he said and, stooping over, kissed her. As he straightened up, the side of his single-breasted coat turned back and exposed to Helen's bright eyes the end of a white envelope. “Barbara told me you are not well,” he wheeled forward a chair and sat down by the bed. “Hadn't I better send for Dr. Stone?”
“Why not?” aggressively. “I trust you do not share Barbara's suddenly developed prejudice against the good doctor.”
“I do not require a physician,” she said evasively. “I am well.”
McIntyre regarded her vexedly. He could not decide whether her flushed cheeks were from fever or the result of exertion35 or excitement. Excitement over what? He looked about the room; it reflected the taste of its dainty owner in its furnishings, but nowhere did he find an answer to his unspoken question, until his eye lighted on a box of rouge36 under the electric lamp on her bed stand.
“Oh, that!” She turned to see what he was talking about. “That rouge belongs to Margaret Brewster.”
“Yes; Grimes took the tray down some time ago.” Helen watched her father fidget with his watch fob for several minutes, then asked with characteristic directness. “What do you wish?”
“To see that you have proper medical attention if you are ill,” he returned promptly. “How would a week or ten days at Atlantic City suit you and Barbara?”
“Not at all.” Helen sat up from her reclining position on the pillows. “You forget, father, that we have a house-guest; Margaret Brewster is not leaving until May.”
A faint “Oh!” escaped Helen, otherwise she made no comment, and McIntyre, after contemplating41 her for a minute, looked away.
“Either go to Atlantic City with us, Helen, or resume your normal, everyday life,” he said shortly. “I am tired of heroics; Jimmie Turnbull was hardly the man to inspire them.”
“Stop!” Helen's voice rang out imperiously. “I will not permit one word said in disparagement42 of Jimmie, least of all from you, father. Wait,” as he attempted to speak. “I do not know what traits of character I may have inherited from you, but I have all mother's loyalty43, and—that loyalty belongs to Jimmie.”
McIntyre's eyes shifted under her gaze.
“I regret very much this obsession,” he said rising. “I will not attempt to reason with you again, Helen, but”—he made no effort to lower his voice, “the world—our world will soon know what manner of man James Turnbull was, of that I am determined44.”
“And I”—Helen faced her father proudly—“I will leave no stone unturned to defend his memory.”
Her father wheeled about. “In doing so, see that you do not compromise yourself,” he remarked coldly, and before the infuriated girl could answer, he slammed the door shut and stalked downstairs.
Some half hour later he opened the door of Rochester and Kent's law office and would have walked unceremoniously into Kent's private office had not John Sylvester stepped forward from behind his desk in the corner.
“Good morning, Colonel,” he said civilly. “Mr. Kent is not here. Do you wish to leave any message?”
“Oh, good morning, Sylvester,” McIntyre's manner was brusque. “When do you expect Mr. Kent?”
“In about twenty minutes, Colonel.” Sylvester glanced at the wall clock. “Won't you sit down?”
McIntyre took the chair and planted it by the window. Never a very patient man, he waited for Kent with increasing irritation45, and at the end of half an hour his temper was uppermost. “Give me something to write with,” he demanded of Sylvester. Accepting the clerk's fountain pen without thanks, he walked over to the center table and, drawing out his leather wallet, took from it a visiting card and, stooping over, wrote:
You have but thirty-six hours remaining.
McIntyre.
“See that Mr. Kent gets this card,” he directed. “No, don't put it there,” irascibly, as the clerk laid the card on top of a pile of letters. “Take it into Mr. Kent's office and put it on his desk.”
There was that about Colonel McIntyre which inspired complete obedience46 to his wishes, and Sylvester followed his directions without further question.
As the clerk stepped into Kent's office McIntyre saw a woman sitting by the empty desk. She turned her head on hearing footsteps and their glances met. A faint exclamation47 broke from her.
“Margaret!” McIntyre strode past Sylvester. “What are you doing here?”
Mrs. Brewster's ready laugh hid all sign of embarrassment48. “Must you know?” she asked archly. “That is hardly fair to Barbara.”
“So Barbara sent you here with a message!” Mrs. Brewster treated his remark as a statement and not a question, and briskly changed the subject.
“I can't wait any longer,” she pouted49. “Please tell Mr. Kent that I am sorry not to have seen him.”
“I will, madam.” Sylvester placed McIntyre's card in the center of Kent's desk and flew to open the door for Mrs. Brewster.
As the widow stepped into the corridor she brushed by an over-dressed woman, whose cheap finery gave clear indication of her tastes. Hardly noticing another's presence she turned and took McIntyre's arm and they strolled off together, her soft laugh floating back to where Mrs. Sylvester stood talking to her husband.
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1
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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peeked
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| v.很快地看( peek的过去式和过去分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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7
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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8
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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trenchantly
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12
enumerated
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| v.列举，枚举，数( enumerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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lobe
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| n.耳垂，（肺，肝等的）叶 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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18
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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19
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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20
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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21
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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22
retracted
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| v.撤回或撤消( retract的过去式和过去分词 )；拒绝执行或遵守；缩回；拉回 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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holder
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| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
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30
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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31
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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32
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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33
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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detest
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| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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41
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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42
disparagement
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| n.轻视，轻蔑 | |
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43
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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44
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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45
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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46
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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47
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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48
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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49
pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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