Georgia walked home to the boarding house that evening, as was her
custom when the weather was fair. It was quite a tramp, three miles,
but then the fresh air and exercise made one feel so well. Besides, if
one wants to be sure of staying slim--
Mrs. Plew, the landlady, was standing on the front stoop when she
arrived, talking of carving knives to an old-fashioned scissor-grinding
man, the sort who advertise with a bell and a chant.
"Good evening, Mrs. Connor."
"Good evening, Mrs. Plew."
"Lovely weather we're having."
"Yes indeed, isn't it? My partner--she lives in Woodlawn--saw two
robins this morning. The buds ought to be out pretty soon now."
Mrs. Plew laughed. "The German bands are out already. That's the
surest sign I know. Oh, Mrs. Connor," Georgia, who was on the top step
turned, "there was a young man came to see you this afternoon. He
waited nearly an hour. He didn't leave his name."
"Did he say anything about coming back?"
"No."
"And he didn't leave his name?"
"No."
"What did he look like?"
"Well, he was tall, blue clothes, black derby hat. He had on a blue
tie with white dots. I don't know as I can describe him exactly. It
was kind of dark in the hall and I didn't get a good look at him."
Georgia paused with her hand on the knob of the living room door, as
she heard talking within, her mother's uninflected murmuring and a
musical masculine voice, deeper than Al's. It must be Father Hervey,
patient man, who came regularly once a fortnight, nominally to confer
with Mrs. Talbot as to the activities of the ladies' advisory board of
the children's summer-camp school. But his visits were less for the
summer school than for mama, to cheer her in her feeble loneliness.
Georgia slipped back to her own room, by way of the hall. An instinct
has been growing in her of recent months to avoid falling into talk
with the priest. He was so sure and strong and dominating; and she
wanted to think for herself.
Al was whistling loudly in his back little cubicle, performing
sartorial miracles before his square pine-framed mirror, with a tall
collar that lapped in front and a very Princeton tie, orange and black,
broad stripes.
She smiled reminiscently, regretfully, as she stood in the shadow and
watched his gay evolutions through the partly opened door. He had so
very much ahead of him that was behind her. He had the spring.
"Why such splendor?" she asked finally.
"Oh, I didn't know you were there. Why," he explained, amazed that
explanation was necessary, "to-night is the big night. Our Bachelor's
Dance. Don't you remember you were invited--as chaperone. I'm on the
committee."
"Hope you have a good time. Who are you taking?"