Page:Lippincotts Monthly Magazine-40.djvu/549

Rh "What is the matter with your hair?"

"Is it out of order? Has the wind blown it?"

"Janet,"—and he turned to walk with me,—"do not speak to me in this manner. It is not worthy of you. Pardon me if I have offended you, but to meet you here, so unlike yourself, is a great surprise to me."

It was also a great surprise to me, and I could not readily find an answer to him. Duncan did not like silence. He liked to have things explained, cleared up, and, turning to look again at me with eyes of grave scrutiny, he continued,—

"Who is with you? Bernard?"

"No one is with me," I said. "I came here on business. It is really not worth discussion, Duncan."

"Very well," he answered. "Are you at the Louvre?" for such was the astounding name of my inn, and I replied that I was.

"I supposed so," he answered. "It is the only endurable house in the town. I am there also. I came to attend to some business, for,"—and he smiled as he spoke,—"you see, I am franker than you,—I came to attend to some legal business, and to see a beautiful Eastern widow, who has suddenly become rich, but who is not open to reason. I am to go East with her, if she will permit me; after her, if she will not."

At this my heart leaped as if it would burst, and I gave one wild glance at him, but his eyes were gay, in his face there was no suspicion. But I—I could not longer feign, nor could I confess, nor indeed listen, and with a little hoarse cry I fled from him, and to my room in the inn, where I locked the door and came from it no more until the midnight train was due, and then I crept out and went away softly. I did not even take my trunk with me, so afraid was I that the noise would arouse him. The money for my board I left in my room, and with it a note saying that I should send for my trunk. I also left a note for Mr. Barlow, in which I stated that urgent and distressing news had made me go at once. And I hoped that no one would guess that the news was that I was to face Duncan as Mrs. Garlic!

Now that I was on the verge of detection, I grew fearful, and the cars could not fly fast enough.

I went to St. Louis, and there I tarried to get strength and collect my wits, and from there I sent for my trunk. It was several days before the trunk came, and when it was brought into my room Duncan Macfarlane came behind it. A child might have expected this! As for me, I began to tremble, and I could scarcely keep back the tears from my eyes, so unhappy was I at seeing him again.

I could not endure the look with which he regarded me, and I sat down, and covered my face with my hands, because my heart was broken, but he thought I was ashamed, and lie came closer, speaking gently. All he said was, "Janet!" I could not answer. For Bernard's wrath I was prepared, but I had never once thought of Duncan as judging me and finding me guilty and without defence. Then again he called me by my name, and, drawing up a chair, he sat down in front of me. Do you know that this is either a most familiar or a most aggressive position for any one to take? The lover, the friend,