Part 29 (1/2)
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.”
”As you like,” put in the other. ”If it be so, why, then all the more reason why I should, under the circ.u.mstances--”
”Under what circ.u.mstances?” interposed the lawyer. ”Let us be clear about this thing as we go along. To what circ.u.mstances do you refer?”
He had turned his eyes now, and looked Theron in the face. A slight protrusion of his lower jaw had given the cigar an upward tilt under the black mustache.
”The circ.u.mstances are that you have brought or sent to my garden a great many very expensive flower-plants and bushes and so on.”
”And you object? I had not supposed that clergymen in general--and you in particular--were so sensitive. Have donation parties, then, gone out of date?”
”I understand your sneer well enough,” retorted Theron, ”but that can pa.s.s. The main point is, that you did me the honor to send these plants--or to smuggle them in--but never once deigned to hint to me that you had done so. No one told me. Except by mere accident, I should not have known to this day where they came from.”
Mr. Gorringe twisted the cigar at another angle, with lines of grim amus.e.m.e.nt about the corner of his mouth. ”I should have thought,” he said with dry deliberation, ”that possibly this fact might have raised in your mind the conceivable hypothesis that the plants might not be intended for you at all.”
”That is precisely it, sir,” said Theron. There were people pa.s.sing, and he was forced to keep his voice down. It would have been a relief, he felt, to shout. ”That is it--they were not intended for me.”
”Well, then, what are you talking about?” The lawyer's speech had become abrupt almost to incivility.
”I think my remarks have been perfectly clear,” said the minister, with dignity. It was a new experience to be addressed in that fas.h.i.+on.
It occurred to him to add, ”Please remember that I am not in the witness-box, to be bullied or insulted by a professional.”
Gorringe studied Theron's face attentively with a cold, searching scrutiny. ”You may thank your stars you're not!” he said, with significance.
What on earth could he mean? The words and the menacing tone greatly impressed Theron. Indeed, upon reflection, he found that they frightened him. The disposition to adopt a high tone with the lawyer was melting away.