In Her Own Right Part 3

There was something in his words that did not ring quite true. It was too sudden to be genuine, too unexpected. It struck her as vague and insincere. Yet there was no occasion to mistrust--it was common enough for men to be called suddenly to England on business.----

"When do you expect to return?" she asked.

"I do not know," he said, reading something that was in her mind. "If I must go, the business which takes me will also fix my return."

A servant approached.

"What is it, Hudson?" she asked.

"The telephone, Miss Cavendish. Pride's Crossing wishes to talk with you."

Croyden arose--it was better to make the farewell brief--and accompanied her to the doorway.

"Good-bye," he said, simply.

"You must go?" she asked.

"Yes--there are some things that must be done to-night."

She gave him another look.

"Good-bye, then--and _bon voyage_," she said, extending her hand.

He took it--hesitated just an instant--lifted it to his lips--and, then, without a word, swung around and went out into the night.

The next day--at noon--when, her breakfast finished, she came down stairs, a scare headline in the morning's paper, lying in the hall, met her eyes.

SUICIDE!

Royster Found Dead in His Bath-room!

The Penalty of Bankruptcy!

ROYSTER & AXTELL FAIL!

Many Prominent Persons Among the Creditors.

She seized the paper, and nervously ran her eyes down the columns until they reached the list of those involved.----

Yes! Croyden's name was among them! That was what had taken him away!

And Croyden read it, too, as he sped Eastward toward the unknown life.

III

CLARENDON

Croyden left Northumberland in the morning--and his economy began with the ride East: he went on Day Express instead of on the Limited, thereby saving the extra fare. At Philadelphia he sent his baggage to the Bellevue-Stratford; later in the evening, he had it returned to the station, and checked it, himself, to Hampton--to avoid the possibility of being followed by means of his luggage.

He did not imagine that any one would go to the trouble to trace him, but he was not taking any chances. He wanted to cut himself away, utterly, from his former life, to be free of everyone he had ever known. It was not likely he would be missed.

Some one would say: "I haven't seen Croyden lately," would be answered: "I think he went abroad suddenly--about the time of the Royster & Axtell failure," and, with that, he would pa.s.s out of notice. If he were to return, any time within the next five years, he would be met by a languid: "Been away, somewhere, haven't you? I thought I hadn't noticed you around the Club, lately."--And that would be the extent of it.

One is not missed in a big town. His going and his coming are not watched. There is no time to bother with another's affairs. Everyone has enough to do to look after his own. The curiosity about one's neighbors--what he wears, what he eats, what he does, every item in his daily life--that is developed by idleness, thrives in littleness, and grows to perfection in scandal and innuendo--belongs solely to the small town. If one comes down street with a grip--instantly: So and so is "going away"--speculation as to why?--where?--what? One puts on a new suit, it is observed and noted.--A pair of new shoes, ditto.--A new necktie, ditto. Every particular of his life is public property, is inspected for a motive, and, if a motive cannot be discovered, one is supplied--usually mean and little, the latter unctuously preferred.

All this Croyden was yet to learn, however.

He took the night's express on the N. Y., P. & N., whence, at Hampton Junction, he transferred to a branch line. For twenty miles the train seemed to crawl along, burrowing into the sand hills and out again into sand, and in and out again, until, at length, with much whistling and escaping steam, they wheezed into the station and stopped.

There were a dozen white men, with slouch hats and nondescript clothing, standing aimlessly around, a few score of negroes, and a couple of antique carriages with horses to match. The white men looked at the new arrival, listlessly, and the negroes with no interest at all--save the two who were porters for the rival hotels. They both made for Croyden and endeavored to take his grip.

He waved them away.

"I don't want your hotel, boys," he said. "But if you can tell me where Clarendon is, I will be obliged."

"Cla'endon! seh? ya.s.s, seh," said one, "right out at de een' o' de village, seh--dis street tek's yo dyar, seh, sho nuf."

"Which end of the village?" Croyden asked.

"Dis een', seh, de fust house beyon' Majah Bo'den's, seh."

"How many blocks is it?"

"Blocks, seh!" said the negro. "'Tain't no blocks--it's jest de fust place beyon' Majah Bo'den's."

Croyden laughed. "Here," he said, "you take my bag out to Clarendon--I'll walk till I find it."

"Ya.s.s, seh! ya.s.s, seh! I'll do it, seh! but yo bettah ride, seh!"

"No!" said Croyden, looking at the vehicle. "It's safer to walk."

He tossed the negro a quarter and turned away.

"Thankee, seh, thankee, seh, I'll brings it right out, seh."

Croyden went slowly down the street, while the crowd stared after him, and the shops emptied their loafers to join them in the staring. He was a strange man--and a well-dressed man--and they all were curious.

Presently, the shops were replaced by dwellings of the humbler sort, then they, in turn, by more pretentious residences--with here and there a new one of the Queen Anne type. Croyden did not need the information, later vouchsafed, that they belong to _new_ people. It was as unmistakable as the houses themselves.

About a mile from the station, he pa.s.sed a place built of English brick, covered on the sides by vines, and shaded by huge trees. It stood well back from the street and had about it an air of aristocracy and exclusiveness.

"I wonder if this is the Bordens'?" said Croyden looking about him for some one to ask--"Ah!"

Down the path from the house was coming a young woman. He slowed down, so as to allow her to reach the entrance gates ahead of him. She was pretty, he saw, as she neared--very pretty!--positively beautiful! dark hair and----