Part 47 (1/2)

”Please do not consider me in the least,” my mother-in-law said with her most Christian-martyr-like expression. ”Whatever you and Margaret wish will do very well for me.”

d.i.c.ky turned from his mother with a little impatient shrug.

”What about you, Madge?” he asked.

”Chicken a la Maryland in a chafing dish and a combination salad with that anchovy and sherry dressing you make so deliciously,” I replied promptly. ”The rest of the dinner I'll leave to you.”

My mother-in-law glared at me.

”It strikes me there isn't much left to leave to him after an order of that kind,” she said, tartly.

”You haven't eaten many of d.i.c.ky's dinners then,” I said audaciously, with a little moue at him. ”He orders the most perfect dinners of any one I know.”

”Of course, with your wide experience, you ought to be a critical judge of his ability,” my mother-in-law snapped back.

Her tone was even more insulting than her words. It tipped with cruel venom her allusion to the quiet, almost cloistered life of my girlhood.

I drew a long breath as I saw my mother-in-law adjust her lorgnette and proceed to gaze through it with critical hauteur at the other diners. I hoped that her curiosity and interest in the things going on around her would make her forget her imaginary grievances, but my hope was destined to be short lived.

It was while we were discussing our oysters, the very first offered of the season, that she spoke to me, suddenly, abruptly:

”Margaret, do you know that man at the second table back of us? He hasn't taken his eyes from you for the last ten minutes.”

My heart almost stopped beating, for my intuition told me at once the ident.i.ty of the gazer. It must be the man whose uncanny, mournful look had so distressed me when I was waiting for Lillian Underwood in the little reception room at the Sydenham the preceding Monday, the man who had followed us to the little tea room, who had even taken the same train to Marvin with me.

I felt as if I could not lift my eyes to look at the man my mother-in-law indicated, and yet I knew I must glance casually at him if I were to avert the displeased suspicion which I already saw creeping into her eyes.

When my eyes met his he gave not the slightest sign that he knew I was looking at him, simply continued his steady gaze, which had something of wistful mournfulness in it. I averted my eyes as quickly as possible, and tried to look absolutely unconcerned.

”I am sure he cannot be looking at me,” I said, lightly. ”I do not know him at all.”

I hoped that my mother-in-law would not notice my evasion, but she was too quick for me.

”You may not know him, but have you ever seen him before?” she asked, shrewdly.

”Really, mother,” d.i.c.ky interposed, his face darkening, ”you're going a little too far with that catechism. Madge says she doesn't know the man, that settles it. By the way, Madge, is he annoying you? If he is, I can settle him in about two seconds.”

”Oh, no,” I said nervously, ”I don't think the man's really looking at me at all; he's simply gazing out into s.p.a.ce, thinking, and happens to be facing this way. It would be supremely ridiculous to call him to account for it.”

My mother-in-law snorted, but made no further comment, evidently silenced by d.i.c.ky's reproof.

I may have imagined it, but it seemed to me that d.i.c.ky looked at me a little curiously when I protested my belief that the man was simply absorbed in thought and not looking at me at all.

When we were dallying with the curiously moulded ices which d.i.c.ky had ordered for dessert, I saw his eyes light up as he caught sight of some one he evidently knew.

”Pardon me just a minute, will you?” he said, turning to his mother and me, apologetically, ”I see Bob Simonds over there with a bunch of fellows. Haven't seen him in a c.o.o.n's age. He's been over across the pond in the big mixup. Didn't know he was back. I don't want any more of this ice, anyway, and when the waiter comes, order cheese, coffee and a cordial for us all.”

He was gone in another instant, making his way with the swift, debonair grace which is always a part of d.i.c.ky, to the group of men at a table not far from ours, who welcomed him joyously.

My mother-in-law's eyes followed mine, and I knew that for once, at least, we were of one mind, and that mind was full of pride in the man so dear to, us both. He was easily the most distinguished figure at the table full of men who greeted him so joyously. I knew that his mother noted with me how cordial was the welcome each man gave d.i.c.ky, how they all seemed to defer to him and hang upon his words.