England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
The breakfast hour was nine o'clock. Dr. Derwent, as usual, came down a
few minutes before, and turned over the letters lying for him on the
table. Among them he found an envelope addressed in a hand which looked
very much like Irene's; it had not come by post. As he was reading the
note it contained, Eustace and Olga Hannaford entered together,
talking. He bade them good-morning, and all sat down to table.
"Irene's late," said Eustace presently, glancing at the clock.
The Doctor looked at him with an odd smile.
"She left Victoria ten minutes ago," he said, "by the Calais-boat
express."
Eustace and Olga stared, exclaimed.
"She suddenly made up her mind to accept an invitation from Mrs.
Borisoff."
"But--what an extraordinary thing!" pealed Eustace, who was always
greatly disturbed by anything out of routine. "She didn't speak of it
yesterday!"
Olga gazed at the Doctor. Her wan face had a dawn of brightness.
"How long is she likely to stay, uncle?"
"I haven't the least idea."
"Well, she can't stay long," Eustace exclaimed. "Ah! I have it! Don't
you see, Olga? It means Parisian dresses and hats!"
Dr. Derwent exploded in laughter.
"Acute young man! Now the ordinary male might have lost himself for a
day in wild conjectures. This points to the woolsack, Olga!"
She laughed for the first time in many days, and her appetite for
breakfast was at once improved.
In his heart, Dr. Derwent did not grieve over the singular events of
yesterday and this morning. He had no fault to find with Arnold Jacks,
and could cheerfully accept him as a son-in-law; but it was easy to
imagine a husband more suitable for such a girl as Irene. Moreover, he
had suspected, since the engagement, that she had not thoroughly known
her own mind. But he was far from anticipating such original and
decisive action on the girl's part. The thing being done, he could
secretly admire it, and the flight to Paris relieved his mind from a
prospect of domestic confusion. Just for a moment he questioned himself
as to Irene's security, but only to recognise how firm was his
confidence in her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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