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Page 101
"What shall I do," I asked, "if she cries in the night?"
But Dicky was sweeping us toward the waiting-room, and did not hear me.
He placed us carefully in the seats nearest the main door, which opened
upon the departure platform, full of people hurrying to and fro, and of
the more leisurely movement of shunting trains. The lamps were lighted,
though twilight still hung about; the scene was pleasantly exciting. I
said to Isabel that I never thought I should enjoy an elopement so much.
"_I_ shall enjoy settling down," she replied thoughtfully. "Dicky has
promised me that all the china shall be hand-painted."
"You won't mind my leaving you for five seconds," said Mr. Dod, suddenly
exploring his breast-pocket; "the train doesn't leave for a quarter of
an hour yet, and I find I haven't a smoke about me," and he opened the
door.
"Not more that five seconds then," I said, for nothing is more trying to
the nerves than to wait for a train which is due in a few minutes and a
man who is buying cigars at the same time.
Dicky left the door open, and that was how I heard a strangely familiar
voice, with an inflexion of enforced calm and repression, suddenly
address him from behind it.
"_Good evening, Dod!_"
I did not shriek, or even grasp Isabel's hand. I simply got up and
stood a little nearer the door. But I have known few moments so
electrical.
"My dear chap, how _are_ you?" exclaimed Dicky. "How are you? Staying in
Cologne? I'm just off to Paris."
I thought I heard a heavy sigh, but it was somewhat lost in the
trundling of the porters' trucks.
"Then," said Arthur Page, for I had not been deceived, "it is as I
supposed."
"What did you suppose, old chap?" asked Dicky in a joyous and expansive
tone.
"You do not go alone?"
The bitterness of this was not a thing that could be communicated to
paper and ink.
"Why, no," said Dicky, "the fact is----"
I saw the wave--it was characteristic--with which Mr. Page stopped him.
"I have been made acquainted with the facts," he said. "Do not dwell
upon them. I do not, cannot, blame you, if you have really won her
heart."
"So far as I know," said Dicky, with some hauteur, "there's nothing in
it to give _you_ the hump."
"Why waste time in idle words?" replied Arthur. "You will lose your
train. I could never forgive myself if I were the cause of that."
"You won't be," said Dicky sententiously, looking at his watch.
"But I must ask--must demand--the privilege of one parting word," said
Arthur firmly. "Do not be apprehensive of any painful scene. I desire
only to wish her every happiness, and to bid her farewell."
Mr. Dod, though on the eve of his wedding day, was not wholly oblivious
of the love affairs of other people. I could see a new-born and
overwhelming comprehension of the situation in his face as he put his
head in at the door and beckoned to Isabel. Evidently he could not trust
himself to speak.
"Miss Portheris," he said, with magnificent self-control, "Mr. Page. Mr.
Page would like to wish you every happiness and to bid you farewell,
Isabel, and I don't see why he shouldn't. We have still five minutes."
There are limits to the propriety of all practical jokes, and I walked
out at once to assure Arthur that his misunderstanding was quite
natural, and somewhat less exquisitely humorous than Mr. Dod appeared to
find it.
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