He was not alert, he suggested nothing
in the way of excursions (Rowland was the prime mover in such as were
attempted), but he conformed passively at least to the tranquil temper
of the two women, and made no harsh comments nor sombre allusions.
Rowland wondered whether he had, after all, done his friend injustice in
denying him the sentiment of duty. He refused invitations, to Rowland's
knowledge, in order to dine at the jejune little table-d'hote; wherever
his spirit might be, he was present in the flesh with religious
constancy. Mrs. Hudson's felicity betrayed itself in a remarkable
tendency to finish her sentences and wear her best black silk gown. Her
tremors had trembled away; she was like a child who discovers that
the shaggy monster it has so long been afraid to touch is an inanimate
terror, compounded of straw and saw-dust, and that it is even a safe
audacity to tickle its nose. As to whether the love-knot of which Mary
Garland had the keeping still held firm, who should pronounce? The young
girl, as we know, did not wear it on her sleeve. She always sat at
the table, near the candles, with a piece of needle-work.
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