RACHEL APPEARS ON THE SCENE
Burton used his room telephone at the hotel to call up Watson, and
even so he did not give his name.
"It's all right so far. We'll go ahead as planned," he said.
Next he went to the station to meet Rachel. The west-bound train to
which her car, "Oversee," was attached, came puffing in with the air
of importance which every one and everything that ministered to Rachel
came sooner or later to assume. He walked down to the end of the long
platform, and there was the familiar car, and, what was not so to be
taken for granted, there was Rachel herself on the steps, waving an
impatient hand to him.
"How jolly of you to come and see me," he said impudently, as he took
her hand. For some queer reason, he did not carry it to his lips, as
had been his old custom. "I was greatly surprised to receive your
telegram yesterday."
"Were you?" she murmured in a tone that might mean nothing or might
mean everything. "Didn't you think it was time?"
"Time for what?"
"Oh,--just time!"
"It is always time for you to telegraph me or write me or to come
halfway across the continent to see me," he said promptly. "Is Philip
with you?"
"Come inside," she said, and led the way into the tiny drawing-room of
the coach. "Your things are coming soon, I hope. We have only half an
hour here. Is there anything worth getting off for, or shall we just
sit and talk?"
"We'll talk first. Please remember that I don't know yet what has
brought you here. Where is Philip?"
"Oh, he didn't come with me," she said, motioning him to a seat as she
took a chair herself. It was a part of her general harmoniousness that
she always took a chair which was in the right light to show up her
hair. He used to smile at the trait. It struck him now for the first
time as somewhat trivial. And as he looked at her, it struck him for
the first time that she was somewhat trivial as a whole. Rachel
trivial? It gave him a shock that made his answer almost incoherent.
"Poor fellow!" he said mechanically. "Still unable to bear moving?"
"Philip is greatly improved," she said. She was sliding a jewelled
bracelet up and down on her arm, and did not look at him. "In fact, he
is so much better that he has run over to France, with the
Armstrongs."
Burton looked at her in grave inquiry. "I am glad that he is better,
but why didn't he come with you, instead of going across the water?"
"Oh, I didn't need him. And he knew that I should pick you up here."
"But surely it was due to Miss Underwood that he should come to her,
if he were able to go anywhere. Nothing but his inability to travel
justified my coming between them in this matter in the first place."
"My dear Hugh, I hope you haven't committed Philip in any way to that
impossible girl!"
He stared at her in silence, absolutely speechless.
"Of course I know you were sent as envoy extraordinary and
plenipotentiary," she said, with one of the sudden smiles which had so
often disarmed his protests, "but that was because I was so sure I
could trust everything to your discretion. And I know you haven't
failed me! When you discovered that the Underwoods were the principals
in a _cause celèbre_, surely that was enough!"
He choked down the white wrath that surged upward. The very
ghastliness of the situation made it necessary that he should be very
careful. He spoke, after a moment, in almost his natural voice.
"I should not be surprised at your attitude, because I remember
now--though I had forgotten it until you spoke--that I had the same
feeling about the matter before I had met the Underwoods themselves.
After knowing them, my feeling changed. I hoped I had made my
impressions of Miss Underwood clear in my letters to you."
"You made it sufficiently clear that you had been bewitched," she
said, with a smile that was not wholly friendly. "Miss Underwood must
be very pretty."
"Yes, she is. And she is 'nice' in every other way, too. She is a
brave, staunch, noble woman,--and Philip ought to go down on his knees
in thankfulness for winning her."
"You are somewhat extravagant in speech," she said coldly. "Philip
Overman would hardly need to express in that fashion his gratitude for
winning the daughter of a country doctor of very tarnished reputation,
whose brother has also figured in the police court!"
"Did you gather that from my letters?"
"No, from the newspapers. The situation has been written up for the
Sunday supplements. The whole thing is cheap,--oh, horribly cheap, my
dear Hugh!"
"But, Rachel,--for heaven's sake, what do you mean? Philip is in love
with the girl,--"
"Fancies of that sort soon pass, Hugh."
"You thought it serious enough when you sent me to see her."
"I was frantic for the moment over Philip, and I would have sent you
to get the moon for him, if he had cried for it. But it doesn't follow
that I would let him have it when he got well."
"Has Philip nothing to say on the subject himself?" he asked coldly.
She smiled enigmatically, and instead of answering at once she asked
in turn: "Exactly what did you say to Miss Underwood? How far did
you--exercise diplomacy?"
"I didn't exercise any. I told her Philip was dying because she had
refused him, and I took advantage of every feeling I could play upon
to win the conditional promise from her that I sent on to you."
"What was her condition?"
"That the mystery hanging over the family be cleared, so that she
could come to him on equal terms."
"That is,--if their name were cleared? I think you so expressed it in
one of your interesting letters."
"That was her phrase."
"Then that lets us out," she smiled. "It hasn't been cleared."
"But it will be! Very soon! I am on the track now. By to-morrow I hope
to show you the Underwood name as spotless as Overman."
She looked at him with unmistakable astonishment. "That you can make
such a comparison makes sufficiently clear your amazing point of view.
I hardly think we need discuss the matter further."
"I shall discuss it with Philip," he said abruptly.
"I told you Philip had gone abroad."
"I shall follow him. I must talk with the boy himself. He must have
some spark of manliness."
"Why are you so provoking, Hugh?" she exclaimed. "What difference does
it make about these people? Who are they that you should care?"
"I care for Philip's honor," he said obstinately. "That is involved.
And the girl's happiness is involved."
"I'm sorry," said Mrs. Overman, with a smile that did not look sorry.
"I'm afraid the matter is out of our hands, though, Hugh. Janet
Armstrong is in the party. I rather think that you would find it too
late to interfere."
He looked at her steadily and in silence.
"Janet is a charming girl," she went on lightly. "She will be a better
match even than Ellice Avery. A year ago it might have been Ellice,
but it has turned out for the best all around. Janet and Philip were
engaged the day they sailed. And you must see, Hugh, that there is
nothing further to be said about it."
Perhaps he did, for he said nothing. He rose and walked to the window
and stood looking out so long that the lady frowned and smiled and
frowned again, and finally spoke.
"Where are your things, Hugh? It is getting late."
"My things? Oh, they are not coming."
"But you are going on with me, aren't you?"
"No," he said. "I'm sorry."
"But I counted on you," she cried.
"I'm sorry," he said again, very gently. He could afford to be gentle
now. "I have important work to do tonight."
"You are going to see that girl?"
"I did not mean that. I have a different engagement. But of course I
shall see her as soon as possible."
Mrs. Overman bit her lip. "You are very punctilious! Well, I will wait
a day for you. It need not take you longer."
He shook his head. "It may take me much longer. I shall be in High
Ridge for some time, probably."
"Then--I'd better not wait for you."
"No. Don't wait for me," he said slowly.
She was very pale, but she smiled. "Then this is goodbye?"
"Yes, for the present."
She did not see his extended hand. She was untangling an invisible
knot in the chain she wore, so her fingers were occupied.
"I don't know when I may see you again, then, for my plans are
almost as indefinite as your own," she said airily. "I'm going
somewhere,--and then somewhere else. When I'm ready to see you, I'll
let you know."
"Good-bye,--and with the deepest meaning of the word," he said
gravely. There was no use in ignoring what lay under the scene.
"Perhaps you'd better get off now, Hugh. You might be carried away in
spite of your resolution,--and I should hate to see you carried away
against your judgment," she mocked.
"Good-bye," he repeated. Something whirled in his brain.
As Burton watched the train pull out, its jaunty plume of smoke
flaunting its scorn of High Ridge, it might have been hard to say
whether he was more angry or more miserable. Perhaps each emotion
helped to keep the other within bounds. How was he going to break to
Miss Underwood the news that Philip had jilted her? That was the plain
fact; and with her sensitive pride, her defenseless humility,--oh, it
was an outrage. If he ever got a chance at Philip! To woo her for
Philip had been irksome enough in the first place. To refuse her for
Philip was something he had not undertaken to do.
But that must wait for to-morrow. He had another matter on his hands
for tonight; the trap he had set must be sprung.