But
there was nothing to make it more tangible, everything to dispel it,
and he was forced to own as much. "It's a lovely little cozy corner,"
was his final conclusion; "but keep out of it, Simp., old boy. These
mechanical huggers are great stuff, but they're too strong for a fellow
that's been raised on Boston girls."
[Illustration]
[Illustration ]
V
Mrs. Athelstone was not in the office when he came down the next
day--she had gone to Washington on the Society's affairs, Brander
said--and so he moped about, finding the place dreary without her
brightening presence. In fact, when Brander went out, he slipped into
the sunlit ante-chamber, for companionship, he told himself; but in his
heart he knew that he did not want to be alone with that thing behind
the altar. He had satisfactorily explained its mechanism to himself, but
there was something else about it which he could not explain.
Naylor had telegraphed that very morning: "Get story. Come home. What do
you think you're doing?" and he tried to make up his mind to end the
whole affair by taking the night train to Boston. But he hated to go
back empty-handed from a four days' assignment. Besides, though he knew
himself a fool for it, he wanted to see Mrs. Athelstone once more.
So it happened that he was lingering on in the outer office when the
postman threw the afternoon mail on the desk.
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