Sticking his gla.s.s firmly in his eye, he watched like a cat for those playful little endearments which his cynical mood--he was, like many of us, not at his best in the morning--led him to antic.i.p.ate. He watched in vain. The young people were decorum itself; more than that, they showed signs of preoccupation; they spoke only occasionally, and then with a business-like brevity.
Suddenly the waiter entered, with a hand fid of letters which he proceeded to distribute. Laing expected none, and kept his gaze on his honeymooners. To his surprise they showed animation enough now; their eyes were first on the waiter"s approaching form; the bridegroom even rose an inch or two from his seat; both stretched out their hands.
Alas, with a little bow, a smile, and a shrug, the waiter pa.s.sed by, and the disappointed couple sank back, with looks of blank despair.
Surely here was enough to set any open-minded man on the right track!
Yes; but not enough to free one who was tied and bound to his own theory.
"She"s dashed anxious to h.o.a.r from home!" mused Laing. "Poor girl! It ain"t over and above flattering to him, though."
He finished his breakfast and went out to smoke. Presently he saw his friends come out also; they went to the porter"s desk and he h.o.a.rd one of them say "telegram." A sudden idea struck him.
"I am an a.s.s!" said he. "Tell you what it is they"ve wired for rooms somewhere--Monte, most likely--and can"t start till they get an answer."
He was so pleased with his explanation that his last doubt vanished and he watched Mary and John start for a walk--the fraternal relations they had established would have allowed such a thing even in London, much more in Paris--with quite a benevolent smile.
"Aunt Sarah is really quite poorly," remarked Mary as they crossed the road and entered the Tuileries Gardens. "She"ll have to stay in all to-day and perhaps tomorrow. Isn"t it hard upon her? Paris amuses her so much."
John expressed his sympathy.
"Now if it had been you or I," he ended, "we shouldn"t have minded.
Paris doesn"t amuse us just now."
"Oh, but, John, we must be ready to start at any moment."
"You can"t start without Miss Bussey,"
"I think that in a wagon-lit----" began Mary.
"But what"s the good of talking?" cried John, bitterly. "Why is there no news from her?"
"He _might_ have wired--John, is it possible our telegrams went astray?"
"Well, we must wait a day or two; or, if you like, we can wire again."
Mary hesitated.
"I--I can"t do that, John. Suppose he"d received the first, and--and--"
"Yes, I see. I don"t want to humiliate myself either."
"We"ll wait a day, anyhow. And, now, John, let"s think no more about them! Oh, well, that"s nonsense; but let"s enjoys ourselves as well as we can."
They managed to enjoy themselves very well. The town was new to Mary, and John found a pleasure in showing it off to her. After a morning of sight-seeing, they drove in the Bois, and ended the day at the theatre.
Miss Bussey, unfortunately, was no better. She had sent for an English doctor and he talked vaguely about two or three days in bed. Mary ventured to ask whether her aunt could travel.
"Oh, if absolutely necessary, perhaps; but much better not," was the answer.
Well, it was not absolutely necessary yet, for no letter and no telegram arrived. This was the awful fact that greeted them when they came in from the theatre.
"We"ll wire the first thing to-morrow," declared John, in a resolute tone. "Write yours to-night, Mary, and I"ll give, them to the porter--"
"Oh, not mine, please," cried Mary, in shrinking bashfulness. "I can"t let the porter see mine!"
"Well, then, we"ll take them out before breakfast to-morrow."
To this Mary agreed, and they sat down and wrote their dispatches.
While they were so engaged Laing jumped out of a cab and entered the room. He seized an English paper, and, flinging himself into a chair, began to study the sporting news. Presently he stole a glance at Mary.
It so chanced that just at the same moment she was stealing a glance at him. Mary dropped her eyes with a blush; Laing withdrew behind his paper.
"Shy, of course. Anybody would be," he thought, with a smile.
"Did you like the piece, Mary?" asked John.
"Oh, very much. I wish Aunt Sarah could have seen it. She missed so much fun."
"Well, she could hardly have come with us, could she?" remarked John.
"Oh, no," said Mary.
"Well, I should rather think not," whispered Laing, who failed to identify "Aunt Sarah" with the elderly person on the trunk.
"I shouldn"t have been happy if she had," said Mary.
"I simply wouldn"t have let her," said John, in that authoritative tone which so well became him.
"No more would I in your place, old chap," murmured Mr. Laing.
Mary rose.
"Thanks for all your kindness, John. Good-night."
"I"m so glad you"ve had a pleasant day. Good-night, Mary."
So they parted--with a good-night as calm, as decorous, as frankly fraternal as one could wish (or wish otherwise). Yet its very virtues undid it in the prematurely suspicious eyes of Arthur Laing. For no sooner was he left alone than he threw down his paper and began to chuckle.
"All for my benefit, that, eh? "Goodnight, Mary!" "Good-night, John!"
Lord! Lord!" and he rose, lit a cigarette, and ordered a brandy-and-soda. And ever and again he smiled. He felt very acute indeed.
So vain is it for either wisdom or simplicity, candor or diplomacy--nay, for facts themselves--to struggle against a Man with a Theory. Mr. Laing went to bed no more doubting that Mary and John were man and wife than he doubted that he had "spotted" the winner of the Derby. Cert.i.tude could no farther go.
CHAPTER VII
THE SIGHTS OF AVIGNON
"It"s a curious thing," observed Roger Deane, "but this fellow Baedeker always travels the opposite way to what I do. When I"m coming back, he"s always going out, and vice versa. It makes him precious difficult to understand, I can tell you, Miss Dora. However I think I"ve got him now. Listen to this! "Ma.r.s.eilles to Arles (Amphitheatre starred) one day. Arles to Avignon (Palace of the Popes starred) two days--slow going that--Avignon to----""