‚ÄúWell, I wants to see Mr. ¬ÝHarry very much; could I wait in the back hall?‚Äù
Mary started to have him wait in the front hall, but she thought better of it and had him shown back. Less than an hour later her husband entered and she went quickly to him. He looked worn and white and tired, but he laughed her concern lightly off.
“I’ll be in earlier tonight,” he declared.
“Is the Congressional business very heavy?”
He laughed so hilariously that she felt uncomfortable, which he observed.
“Oh, no,” he answered deftly; “not very.” And as they moved toward the dining-room Mary changed the subject.
‚ÄúOh,‚Äù she exclaimed, suddenly remembering. ‚ÄúThere is a man‚ÅÝ‚Äîa colored man‚ÅÝ‚Äîwaiting to see you in the back hall, but I guess he can wait until after lunch.‚Äù
They ate leisurely.
“There’s going to be racing out at the park this evening,” said Harry. “Want to go?”
‚ÄúI was going to hear an art lecture at the Club,‚Äù Mary returned, and grew thoughtful; for here walked her ghost again. Of course, the Club was an affair with more of gossip than of intellectual effort, but today, largely through her own suggestion, an art teacher of European reputation was going to lecture, and Mary preferred it to the company of the race track. And‚ÅÝ‚Äîjust as certainly‚ÅÝ‚Äîher husband didn‚Äôt.
“Don’t forget the man, dear,” she reminded him; but he was buried in his paper, frowning.