Part 11 (1/2)

”Whichever is agreeable to you will suit me.” She spoke carefully, after an instant's hesitation.

”Then do come and dine--at eight,” Alicia said; and it was agreed.

She stood staring at the door when Laura finally closed it, and only turned when Hilda spoke.

”You are going to have him to meet her,” she said. ”May I come too?”

”Certainly not.” Alicia's grasp was also by this time on the door handle.

”Are you going too? You daren't talk about her!” Hilda cried.

”I'm going too. I've got the brougham. I'll drive her home,” said Alicia, and went out swiftly.

”My goodness!” Hilda remarked again. Then she got up and found her slippers and wrote a note, which she addressed to the Reverend Stephen Arnold, Clarke Mission House, College street. ”Thanks immensely,” it ran, ”for your delightful offer to introduce me to Father Jordan and persuade him to show me the astronomical wonders he keeps in his tower at St. Simeon's. An hour with a Jesuit is an hour of milk and honey, and belonging to that charming Order he won't mind my coming on a Sunday evening--the first clear one.”

Miss Howe signed her note and bit consideringly at the end of her pen.

Then she added: ”If you have any influence with Duff Lindsay, it may be news to you that you can exert it with advantage to keep him from marrying a cheap, ethereal little _religieuse_ of the Salvation Army named Filbert. It may seem more fitting that you should expostulate with her, but I don't advise that.”

CHAPTER X.

The door of Ensign Sand's apartment stood open with a purposeful air when Captain Filbert reached headquarters that evening; but in any case it is likely that she would have gone in. Mrs. Sand walked the floor, carrying a baby, a pale, sticky baby with blotches, which had inherited from its maternal parent a conspicuous lack of b.u.t.tons. Mrs. Sand's room was also ornamented with texts, but they had apparently been selected at random, and they certainly hung that way. The piety of the place seemed at the control of an older infant, who sat on the floor and played with his father's regimental cap. On the other side of the curtain Captain Sand audibly washed himself and brushed his hair.

”What kind of meetin' did you have?” asked Mrs. Sand. ”There--there now; he shall have his bottle, so he shall!”

”A beautiful meeting. Abraham Lincoln White, the Savannah negro, you know, came as a believer for the first time, and so did Miss Rozario from Whiteway and Laidlaw's. We had such a happy time.”

”What sort of collection?”

Laura opened a knotted handkerchief and counted out some copper coins.

”Only seven annas three pice! And you call that a good meeting! I don't believe you exhorted them to give!”

”Oh, I think I did!” Laura returned mechanically.

”Seven annas and three pice! And you know what the Commissioner wrote out about our last quarter's earnings! What did you say?”

”I said--I said the collection would now be taken up,” Laura faltered.

”Oh dear! oh dear! Leopold, stop clawing me! Couldn't you think of anythin' more tellin' or more touchin' than that? Fever or no fever, it does not do for me to stay away from the regular meetin's. One thing is plain--_he_ wasn't there!”

”Who?”

”Well, you've never told me his name, but I expect you've got your reasons.” Mrs. Sand's tone was not arch, but slightly resentful. ”I mean the gentleman that attends so regular and sits behind, under the window.

A society man, I should say, to look at him, though the officers of this Army are no respecters of persons, and I don't suppose the Lord takes any notice of his clothes.”

”His name is Mr. Lindsay. No, he wasn't there.”