He carried precaution to the point of accompanying her to
Monsieur Harmost's on the Friday afternoon, and expressed a wish to go
in and shake hands with the old fellow. It was a queer meeting. Those
two had as great difficulty in finding anything to say as though they
were denizens of different planets. And indeed, there ARE two planets on
this earth! When, after a minute or so of the friendliest embarrassment,
he had retired to wait for her, Gyp sat down to her lesson.
Monsieur Harmost said quietly:
"Your letter was very kind, my little friend--and your father is very
kind. But, after all, it was a compliment your husband paid me." His
smile smote Gyp; it seemed to sum up so many resignations. "So you
stay again with your father!" And, looking at her very hard with his
melancholy brown eyes, "When will you find your fate, I wonder?"
"Never!"
Monsieur Harmost's eyebrows rose.
"Ah," he said, "you think! No, that is impossible!" He walked twice
very quickly up and down the room; then spinning round on his heel, said
sharply: "Well, we must not waste your father's time. To work."
Winton's simple comment in the cab on the way home was:
"Nice old chap!"
At Bury Street, they found Gyp's agitated parlour-maid. Going to do the
music-room that morning, she had "found the master sitting on the sofa,
holding his head, and groaning awful.
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