He was about to drive a mile or two to see some beautiful things, to smoke a good cigar and drink some admirable brandy—then to retire and sleep the sleep of the divinely worthy.
The girl raised her head. Her eyes met his, and he knew that whatever else was true or false his love for her was certain and resolved.
Crispin looked extremely pleased to see him. He came towards him smiling and holding out his hand:
"Why, Mr. Harkness, this is splendid," he said. "We were just wondering what we should do about you. We were giving you up."
Harkness was conscious that, in spite of his attempts outside, he was still in considerable disorder. He fingered his collar nervously:
"I'm sorry," he began. "But I'm so glad that I've caught you after all."
"Were the revels in the town amusing?" Crispin asked.
Harkness had a sudden impulse, whence he knew not, to make the younger Crispin speak.
"Why didn't you come down?" he asked. "You'd have enjoyed it."
The man was astonished at being addressed. He sprang into sudden life like any Jack-in-the-Box:
"Oh I," he said, "I had to go with my father, you know—yes, to see some old friends."
