Page:The Galaxy, Volume 5.djvu/484

470 tinned. "To you I shall have to leave the disagreeable task of breaking the circumstances to the Thorpe people. I wish to be ready to take the noon train for Riverbend."

Well, well! I was nigh bewildered. I thought of the gossip, and of the cake, and of Camilla, and couldn't separate anything. The front blinds were closed; the story set a-going. Jack and Camilla smuggled off.

Three days after, as my ideas were beginning to settle, a letter from Camilla announced Philip Henderson's death. Then I couldn't help thinking that if Jack Claës had just kept his foot out of it, Camilla might have been Mrs. Sylvester Holt, and nobody hurt! The milk was spilt, however, and no use grieving!

Mr. Mason was, as his daughter had said, a dissolute and immoral man, and at that time a mere wreck, who could not survive his dissipation much longer. He gladly agreed to leave Camilla in peace, upon condition of receiving a small annuity from her earnings. The poor girl wished to return to Thorpe for a few months. "I can live this horrid story down, better," she said, "where I am known than among strangers." Of course, I did not hesitate in agreeing with her, nor in offering her such protection as my endorsement of her conduct afforded.

Jack accompanied her on her return. I admired him for being so kind to her, but, then, I thought he liked an excuse for running up to Thorpe. Any other girl would have rather shrunk from the society of a man to whom she had given her preference unsought and in vain; but, I think, Camilla rather courted the exquisite suffering which the complete self control she manifested with Jack must have cost her.

It was now November. The day of their return to Thorpe happened to be Martinmas—a dull, sullen Autumnal day, and our spirits were all heavy and dull like the day. After dinner we were rather surprised by the arrival of Mrs. Brewster, who, with some awkward hesitation, asked Jack if she could see him a few minutes alone. He took her into the parlor, where there was no fire. A vague uneasiness possessed me. I had heard rumors that Jenny Brewster had another lover. Just what I would have expected in the little minx! and I was getting my temper up at the idea of her trifling with my boy! Mrs. Brewster's stay was brief; she did not even return to the sitting room to bid Camilla and me good day. I waited ten—fifteen minutes: there was no sound from Jack. Then I went softly and opened the parlor door. Jack sat there, his head bowed on the back of a chair he had drawn in front of him—indifferent, apparently, to the chilly, gloomy room, to everything but his own thoughts.

"My poor boy," I said, "what is this—?"

He started up and laughed at my look of woe-begone sympathy.