The Road to UnderstandingPorter, Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman)
General
The Road to Understanding
Porter, Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman)
Marriage -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction
Taken utterly by surprise, the doctor, for one awful minute, floundered
in appalled confusion. It was Helen this time who came to the rescue.
"I shall tell the doctor he needn't answer that question, Betty," she
said, with just a shade of reproval in her voice. "If he did know of
such a thing, do you think he ought to tell you, or anybody else?"
Betty laughed and colored a little.
"No, dear, of course not. And I shouldn't have asked it, should I?"
"But what makes you think he has?" queried the doctor, with very much
the air of a small boy who is longing yet fearing to investigate the
reason for the non-explosion of a firecracker.
"Because he said twice that I reminded him of some one, particularly
with my hat on; and both times, afterward, he looked so romantic and
solemn"--Betty's eyes began to twinkle--"that I thought maybe I was on
the track of a real, live love-story, you see. But he hasn't said
anything about it lately; so perhaps I was mistaken, after all. You see,
really, he's quite like folks, now, since we've been working on the
curios."
"And how are you getting along with those?"
"Very well, only it's slow, of course. There is such a mass of material,
and so much to look up and study up besides. We're just getting it
together and tabulating it now on temporary sheets. We shan't begin the
real cataloguing on the final cards until we have all our material in
hand, Mr. Denby says."
"But you aren't getting tired of it?"
"Not a bit! I love it--even the digging after dates. I'm sure _you_ can
understand that," she smiled.
"Yes, I can understand that," he smiled back at her. And now, for the
first time for long minutes, he dared to look across the room into Helen
Denby's eyes.
CHAPTER XXIV
COUNTER-PLOTS
In thinking it over afterwards Burke Denby tried to place the specific
thing that put into his mind that most astounding suggestion. He knew
very well the precise moment of the inception of the idea--it had been
on Christmas night as he sat before the fire in his gloomy library. But
what had led to it? Of just what particular episode concerning his
acquaintance with this girl had he been thinking when, like a blinding
flash out of the dark, had leaped forth those startling words?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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