But RoBards was not content, and he was a whit churlish as he led Chalender along the high ridges, and let him remark the silver highway the river laid among the winding hills of Northcastle, down into the balsam-snowed levels of the White Plains. Little as RoBards approved his tenacious guest, he approved himself less. He felt a fool for letting Chalender pink him so with his clumsy sarcasms, but he could not find wit for retort or take refuge in a lofty tolerance. He suffered a boorish confusion when Chalender said at last, as they returned to the house and the cocktails that Patty had waiting for them on the porch: “I agree with you, David. The Bronx is not our river. I can honestly oppose its choice. But it’s a pretty country you have here. I love the sea and the Sound and the big Hudson, but there is a peculiar grace about these inland hills of Westchester. I shall hope to see much of them in the coming years.” “Yes?” “Yes. I shall bid for a contract to build a section of the Croton waterway. That may mean that I shall spend several years in your neighborhood. My office will be the heights along the Hudson. That is only a few miles away and a pleasant gallop. You won’t mind if I drop in upon you now and then when I am lonely?” Though Chalender ignored Patty’s existence in making this plea, RoBards felt that it was meant for her. But what could he say except a stupidly formal: “It will be an honor to receive one of the captains of so great an enterprise.” “Thanks! And I can count upon always finding you here?” Now RoBards amazed himself when he answered: “I fear not. We came up only to escape the cholera. When that is over, we shall return to New York. I have my law practice to remember.” He could feel, like hot irons in his cheek, the sharp eyes of Patty. He knew what she was thinking. He had said that he wanted to dwell here forever. And now he was pretending that he was only a brief visitor. Instead of gasping with the shock of her husband’s perversion, she snickered a little. It was as if he heard a sleighbell tinkle in the distance. But someone else was in that sleigh with his sweetheart. He could not understand Patty. He seemed to please her most by his most unworthy actions. He wondered if she had scented the jealousy that had prompted his words, and had taken it once more as an unwitting tribute to her. He thought he detected a triumphant smile on Chalender’s face, and he longed to erase it with the flat of his hand. Instead, he found himself standing up to bow in answer to Chalender’s bow, like a jointed zany. The inscrutable Patty, when Chalender had driven out of sight of the little lace handkerchief she waved at him, turned to her husband with sudden anger in her face. He braced himself for a rebuke, but again she confused him by saying: “The impudence of Harry Chalender! Daring to crowd in on our honeymoon! It was splendid how you made him understand that we RoBardses don’t welcome him here.”