“Is he with the dancers?” It was said somewhat bitterly; but not in a way which called for reply. Then with feverish abruptness, “Sit down, I want to talk to you.” I took the first chair which offered and as I did so, became aware of a hitherto unobserved presence at the farther end of the room. He was not alone, then, it seemed. Some one was keeping watch. Who? I was soon to know for he turned almost immediately in the direction I have named and in a tone as far removed as possible from the ringing one to which I was accustomed, he spoke the name[Pg 32] of Wealthy, saying, as a middle-aged woman came forward, that he would like to be alone for a little while with this nephew who was such a stranger. [Pg 32] She passed me in going out—a wholesome, kindly looking woman whom I faintly remembered to have seen once or twice during my former visit. As she stopped to lift the portière guarding the passage-way leading to the door, she cast me a glance over her shoulder. It was full of anxious doubt. I answered it with a nod of understanding, then turned to my uncle whose countenance was now lit with a purpose which made it more familiar. “I shall not waste words.” Thus he began. “I have been a strong man, but that day is over. I can even foresee my end. But it is not of that I wish to speak now. Quenton—” It was the first time he had used this name in addressing me and I greeted it with a smile, recognizing immediately how it would not only prevent confusion in the household but give me here and elsewhere an individual standing. He saw I was pleased and so spoke the name again but this time with a gravity which secured my earnest attention. “Quenton, (I am glad you like the name) I will not ask you to excuse my abruptness. My condition demands it. Do you think you could ever love my daughter, your cousin Orpha?” I was too amazed—too shaken in body and soul to answer him. This, within fifteen minutes of an experience which had sealed my emotions from all thought of love save for the one woman who had awakened my indifferent nature to the real meaning of love. An hour before, my heart would have leaped at the question. Now it was cold and unresponsive as stone. “You do not answer.” [Pg 33] [Pg
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