The Quality of Mercy Part 15

"Oh, I didn't mean _you_, papa," said Louise, sweetly.

The door-bell rang, and after some parley at the threshold, Patrick came up to say, "The gentleman that was just here thinks he left his note-book, he--"

Hilary did not let him get the words out; "Oh, yes, show him up! Here it is." He ran half down the stairs himself to meet Maxwell.

XVI.

Louise stole a glance at herself across the room in the little triptych mirror against one of the shelves. Her hair was not tumbled, and she completed her toilet to the eye by dropping her shoes and extending the edge of her skirt over them where she stood.

Her father brought Maxwell in by the door, and she smiled a fresh greeting to him. "We--I had just picked your note-book up. I--I'm glad you came back, I--was a little short with you a moment ago. I--I--Mayn't I offer you a cigar?"

"No, thanks. I don't smoke," said Maxwell.

"Then a gla.s.s of--It's pretty cold out!"

"Thank you; I never drink."

"Well, that's good! That's--sit down; sit down!--that's a very good thing. I a.s.sure you, I don't think it's the least use, though I do both.

My boy doesn't, he's a pattern to his father."

In spite of Hilary's invitation Maxwell remained on foot, with the effect of merely hearing him out as he went on.

"I--I'm sorry I haven't anything to tell about that accident. I've been telegraphing all day, without finding out anything beyond the fact as first reported; and now my son's gone up to Wellwater, to look it up on the ground. It may have been our Mr. Northwick, or it may not. May I ask how much you know?"

"I don't know that I'm quite free to say," answered Maxwell.

"Oh!"

"And I didn't expect you to say anything unless you wished to make something known. It's a matter of business."

"Exactly," said Hilary. "But I think I might been a little civiller in saying what I did. The rumor's been a great annoyance to me; and I like to share my annoyances with other people. I suppose your business often brings you in contact with men of that friendly disposition? Heigh?"

Hilary rolled the cigar he was about to light between his lips.

"We see the average man," said Maxwell, not at all flattered from his poise by Hilary's apologies. "It's a bore to be interviewed; I know that from the bore it is to interview."

"I dare say that's often the worst part of it," said Hilary, lighting his cigar, and puffing out the first great clouds. "Well, then, I may congratulate myself on sparing you an unpleasant duty. I didn't know I should come off so handsomely."

There seemed nothing more to say, and Maxwell did not attempt to make conversation. Hilary offered him his hand, and he said, as if to relieve the parting of abruptness, "If you care to look in on me again, later on, perhaps--"

"Thank you," said Maxwell, and he turned to go. Then he turned back, and after a moment's hesitation, bowed to Louise, and said very stiffly, "Good-evening!" and went out.

Louise fetched a deep breath. "Why didn't you keep him longer, papa, and find out all about him?"

"I think we know all that's necessary," said her father, dryly. "At least he isn't on my conscience any longer; and now I hope you're satisfied."

"Yes--yes," she hesitated. "You don't think you were too patronizing in your reparation, papa?"

"Patronizing?" Hilary's crest began to rise.

"Oh, I don't mean that; but I wish you hadn't let him see that you expected him to leap for joy when you stooped to excuse yourself."

Hilary delayed, for want of adequate terms, the violence he was about to permit himself. "The next time, if you don't like my manner with people, don't stay, Louise."

"I knew you wanted me to stay, papa, to see how beautifully you could do it; and you _did_ do it beautifully. It was magnificent--perhaps _too_ magnificent." She began to laugh and to kiss away the vexation from her father's face, keeping her hands behind her with her shoes she had picked up again, in them, as she came and leaned over him, where he sat.

"And did I want you to stay and entertain him here till I came in?" he demanded, to keep from being mollified too soon.

"No," she faltered. "_That_ was a work of necessity. He looked so sick and sad, that he appealed to my sympathy, and besides--Do you think I could trust you with a secret, papa?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Why, you see I thought he was a walking-delegate at first."

"And was that the reason you stayed?"

"No. That was what frightened me, and then interested me. I wanted to find out what they were like. But that isn't the secret."

"It's probably quite as important," Hilary growled.

"Well, you see it's such a good lesson to me! I had slipped off my shoes when I was lying down, and I couldn't get away, he came in so suddenly."

"And do you mean to tell me, Louise, that you were talking to that reporter all the time in--"

"How should he know it? You didn't know it yourself, papa. I couldn't get my shoes on after he came, of course!" She brought them round before her in evidence.

"Well, it's scandalous, Louise, simply scandalous! I never come in after you've been here without finding some part of your gear lying round--hair-pins, or gloves, or ribbons, or belts, or handkerchiefs, or something--and I won't have it. I want you to understand that I think it's disgraceful. I'm ashamed of you."

"Oh, no! Not _ashamed_, papa!"

"Yes, I am!" said her father; but he had to relent under her look of meek imploring, and say, "or I ought to be. I don't see how you could hold up your head."

"I held it very _high_ up. When you haven't got your shoes on--in company--it gives you a sort of--internal majesty; and I behaved very loftily. But it's been a fearful lesson to me, papa!" She made her father laugh, and then she flung herself upon him, and kissed him for his amiability.

She said at the end of this rite, "He didn't seem much impressed even after you had apologized, do you think, papa?"

"No, he didn't," Hilary grumbled. "He's as stiff-necked as need be."

"Yes," said Louise, thoughtfully. "He must be proud. How funny proud people are, papa! I can't understand them. That was what always fascinated me with Suzette."

Hilary's face saddened as it softened. "Ah, poor thing! She'll have need of all her pride, now."

"You mean about her father," said Louise, sobered too. "Don't you hope he's got away?"

"What do you mean, child? That would be a very rascally wish in me."