CHAPTER XXXIV

Thelampswerelittheirlusterreflecteditselfinthepolishedwoodgoodwinewaspassedroundthedinner-tablebeforethemealwasfaradvancedcivilizationhadtriumphed,andMr.Hilberypresidedoverafeastwhichcametowearmoreandmoresurelyanaspect,cheerful,dignified,promisingwellforthefuture.TojudgefromtheexpressioninKatharine’seyesitpromisedsomething—buthecheckedtheapproachsentimentality.HepouredoutwinehebadeDenhamhelphimself. TheywentupstairsandhesawKatharineandDenhamabstractthemselvesdirectlyCassandrahadaskedwhethershemightnotplayhimsomething—someMozart?someBeethoven?Shesatdowntothepianothedoorclosedsoftlybehindthem.Hiseyesrestedonthecloseddoorforsomesecondsunwaveringly,but,bydegrees,thelookofexpectationdiedoutofthem,and,withasigh,helistenedtothemusic. KatharineandRalphwereagreedwithscarcelyawordofdiscussionastowhattheywishedtodo,andinamomentshejoinedhiminthehalldressedforwalking.Thenightwasstillandmoonlit,fitforwalking,thoughanynightwouldhaveseemedsotothem,desiringmorethananythingmovement,freedomfromscrutiny,silence,andtheopenair. “Atlast!”shebreathed,asthefrontdoorshut.Shetoldhimhowshehadwaited,fidgeted,thoughthewasnevercoming,listenedforthesoundofdoors,halfexpectedtoseehimagainunderthelamp-post,lookingatthehouse.Theyturnedandlookedattheserenefrontwithitsgold-rimmedwindows,tohimtheshrineofsomuchadoration.Inspiteofherlaughandthelittlepressureofmockeryonhisarm,hewouldnotresignhisbelief,butwithherhandrestingthere,hervoicequickenedandmysteriouslymovinginhisears,hehadnottime—theyhadnotthesameinclination—otherobjectsdrewhisattention. Howtheycametofindthemselveswalkingdownastreetwithmanylamps,cornersradiantwithlight,andasteadysuccessionofmotor-omnibusesplyingbothwaysalongit,theycouldneitherofthemtellnoraccountfortheimpulsewhichledthemsuddenlytoselectoneofthesewayfarersandmounttotheveryfrontseat.Aftercurvingthroughstreetsofcomparativedarkness,sonarrowthatshadowsontheblindswerepressedwithinafewfeetoftheirfaces,theycametooneofthosegreatknotsofactivitywherethelights,havingdrawnclosetogether,thinoutagainandtaketheirseparateways.Theywereborneonuntiltheysawthespiresofthecitychurchespaleandflatagainstthesky. “Areyoucold?”heasked,astheystoppedbyTempleBar. “Yes,Iamrather,”shereplied,becomingconsciousthatthesplendidraceo