Charley was looking at her foot. I can’t say whether or not the two light taps that the foot now gave upon the floor of the landing brought out for me a certain impatience which I might otherwise have missed in those last words of hers. From Charley it brought out, I feel quite sure, the speech which (in some form) she had been expecting from him as her confederate in this unwelcome and inopportune interview with me, and which his less highly schooled perceptions had not suggested to him until prompted by her. “I should have been very glad to include you in our launch party if I had known you were coming here to-day,” lied little Charley. “Thank you so much!” I murmured; and I fancy that after this Hortense hated me worse than ever. Well, why should I play her game? If anybody had any claim upon me, was it she? I would get as much diversion as I could from this encounter. Hortense had looked at Charley when she spoke for my benefit, and it now pleased me very much to look at him when I spoke for hers. “I could almost give up the gardens for the sake of returning with you,” I said to him. This was most successful in producing a perceptible silence before Hortense said, “Do come.” I wanted to say to her, “You are quite splendid--as splendid as you look, through and through! You wouldn’t have run away from any battle of Chattanooga!” But what I did say was, “These flowers here will fade, but may I not hope to see you again in Kings Port?” She was looking at me with eyes half closed; half closed for the sake of insolence--and better observation; when eyes like that take on drowsiness, you will be wise to leave all your secrets behind you, locked up in the bank, or else toss them right down on the open table. Well, I tossed mine down, thereto precipitated by a warning from the stranger in the launch:-- “We shall need all the tide we can get.” “I’m sure you’d be glad to know,” I then said immediately (to Charley, of course), “that Miss La Heu, whose dog you killed, is back at her work as usual this morning.” “Thank you,” returned Charley. “If there could be any chance for me to replace--” “Miss La Heu is her name?” inquired Hortense. “I did not catch it yesterday. She works, you say?” “At the Woman’s Exchange. She bakes cakes for weddings--among her other activities.” “So interesting!” said Hortense; and bowing to me, she allowed the spellbound Charley to help her down into the launch. Each step of the few that she had to take was upon unsteady footing, and each was taken with slow security and grace, and with a mastery of her skirts so complete that they seemed to do it of themselves, falling and folding in the soft, delicate curves of discretion.