Mystery fiction; Race relations -- Fiction; Southern States -- Fiction
"He is certainly a fine character--the best product of the new south, I
take it. I have neglected to thank him for his good offices. I shall
call upon him when I return."
"And," she said in a low tone, "of course you will assure the general of
your gratitude to-morrow. You owe him more than you suspect. I would not
have you fail there."
"And why would you dislike to have me fail?" She blushed furiously when
she realized how she had become involved, but she met his questioning
gaze bravely.
"You forget that I introduced you as my friend, and one does not like
for friends to show up in a bad light."
He fell into moody silence, from which with difficulty only he could
bring himself to reply to questions as she led the way from personal
grounds. The Hall saved him from absolute disgrace.
In the darkened sitting-room was Mrs. Montjoy when the girl and the
young man entered. She lifted her bandaged eyes to the door as she heard
their voices in the hall.
"Mamma, here is Mr. Morgan," said Mary. The family had instinctively
agreed upon a cheerful tone; the great oculist was coming; it was but a
question of time when blessed sight would return again. The colonel
raised himself from the lounge where he had been dozing and came
forward. Edward could not detect in his grave courtesy the slightest
deviation of manner. He welcomed him smilingly and inquired of Gerald.
And then, continuing into the room, the young man took the soft hand of
the elder woman. She placed the other on his and said with that singular
disregard of words peculiar to the blind:
"I am glad to see you Mr. Morgan. We have been so distressed about you.
I spent a wretched day and night thinking of your worry and danger."
"They are all over now, madam; but it is pleasant to know that my
friends were holding me up all the time. Naturally I was somewhat
lonesome," he said, forcing a smile, "until the general came to my
rescue." Then recollecting himself, he added: "But those hours were as
nothing to this, madam. You cannot understand how distressed I was to
learn, as I have just now, of your illness." She patted his hand
affectionately, after the manner of old ladies.
"Oh, yes, I can. Mary has told us of your offer to take us to Paris on
that account. I am sure sometimes that one's misfortunes fall heaviest
upon friends."
"It is not too late," he said, earnestly. "If the colonel will keep
house and trust you with me, it is not too late. Really, I am almost
obliged to visit Paris soon, and if--" he turned to the colonel at a
loss for words. That gentleman had passed his hand over his forehead and
was looking away.
"You are more than kind, my young friend," he said, sadly: "more than
kind. We will see Campbell. If it is necessary Mrs. Montjoy will go to
Paris."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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