"I won't," he retorted, "if you'll promise to make the university people
come regularly to my sermons."
He treated the notion of Hilbrook's visits lightly; but with his return
to the familiar environment he felt a shrinking from them in an
experience which was like something physical. Yet when he sat down the
first night in his study, with his lamp in its wonted place, it was with
an expectation of old Hilbrook in his usual seat so vivid that its
defeat was more a shock than its fulfilment upon supernatural terms
would have been. In fact, the absence of the old man was spectral; and
though Ewbert employed himself fully the first night in answering an
accumulation of letters that required immediate reply, it was with
nervous starts from time to time, which he could trace to no other
cause. His wife came in and out, with what he knew to be an accusing
eye, as she brought up those arrears of housekeeping which always await
the housewife on the return from any vacation; and he knew that he did
not conceal his guilt from her.
They both ignored the stress which had fallen back upon him, and which
accumulated, as the days of the week went by, until the first Sunday
came.
Ewbert dreaded to look in the direction of Hilbrook's pew, lest he
should find it empty; but the old man was there, and he sat blinking at
the minister, as his custom was, through the sermon, and thoughtfully
passing the tip of his tongue over the inner edge of his lower lip.
Many came up to shake hands with the minister after church, and to tell
him how well he was looking, but Hilbrook was not among them. Some of
the university people who had made a point of being there that morning,
out of a personal regard for Ewbert, were grouped about his wife, in the
church vestibule, where she stood answering their questions about his
health. He glimpsed between the heads and shoulders of this gratifying
group the figure of Hilbrook dropping from grade to grade on the steps
outside, till it ceased to be visible, and he fancied, with a pang, that
the old man had lingered to speak with him, and had then given up and
started home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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