The luncheon itself was elaborate, and there was a butler whose majestic dignity and importance made even Edwards seem plebeian by comparison.
Malcolm was at home when they arrived, irreproachably dressed and languidly non-effusive, as usual. Captain Elisha, as he often said, did not "set much store" by clothes; but there was something about this young man which always made him conscious that his own trousers were a little too short, or his boots too heavy, or something. "I wouldn't WEAR a necktie like his," he wrote Abbie, after his first meeting with Malcolm, "but blessed if I don't wish I could IF I would!"Caroline, in the course of conversation during the luncheon, mentioned the Moriartys and their sorrow. The captain tried to head her off and to change the subject, but with little success.
He was uncomfortable and kept glancing under his brows at Malcolm, with whom, under the circumstances, he could not help sympathizing to an extent. But his sympathy was wasted. The young man did not appear in the slightest degree nervous. The memory of his recent interview with Captain Elisha did not embarrass him, outwardly at least, half as much as it did the captain. He declared that old Pat's death was beastly hard luck, but accidents were bound to happen. It was a shame, and all that. "If there's anything the mater and I can do, Caroline, call on us, of course.""Yes, do, Caroline," concurred his mother. "However, one must be philosophic in such cases. It is a mercy that people in their station do not feel grief and loss as we do. Providence, in its wisdom, has limited their susceptibilities as it has their intelligence. Don't you agree with me, Captain Warren?""Sartin!" was the prompt reply. "It's always a comfort to me, when I go fishin', to know that the fish ain't got so much brains as Ihave. The hook hurts, I presume likely, but they ain't got the sense to realize what a mean trick's been played on 'em. The one that's caught's dead, and them that are left are too busy hustlin'
for the next meal to waste much time grievin'. That eases my conscience consider'ble."Caroline seemed to be the only one who appreciated the sarca** in this observation. She frowned slightly. Mrs. Corcoran Dunn tolerantly smiled, and her son laughed aloud.
"Say, Admiral," he commented, "when it comes to philosophy you go some yourself, don't you?""Um-hm. I can be as philosophical about other folk's troubles as anybody I ever see." Then, with an involuntary chuckle of admiration at the young gentleman's coolness, he added, "That is, anybody I ever see afore I come to New York."Malcolm opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. The captain, noticing his change of purpose and following the direction of his look, saw Mrs. Dunn shake her head in sharp disapproval. He ate the remainder of his salad in silence, but he thought a good deal.
"And now," said Mrs. Dunn, rising and leading the way to the drawing-room, "we must all go for a motor ride. Everyone rides on Sunday afternoon," she explained, turning to her male guest.
The distressed look returned to Captain Elisha's face. His niece saw it, understood, and came to his rescue.
"I think Captain Warren prefers to be excused," she said, smiling.
"He has a prejudice against automobiles."
"No!" drawled Malcolm, the irrepressible. "Not really? Admiral, I'm surprised! In these days, you know!""It ain't so much the automobiles," snapped Captain Elisha, irritation getting the better of his discretion, "as 'tis the devilish fools that--""Yes? Oh, all right, Mater."
"That are careless enough to get in the way of them," finished the captain, with surprising presence of mind. "Still, if Caroline wants to go--""I have it!" exclaimed Mrs. Dunn. "The young people shall go, and the others remain at home. Malcolm shall take you for a spin, Caroline, and Captain Warren and I will stay here and wait until you return. We'll have a family chat, Captain, won't we?
Because," with a gay laugh, "in a way we ARE like one family, you see."And, somewhat to Miss Warren's surprise, her uncle agreed to this proposition. He did not answer immediately, but, when he did, it was with heartiness.
"Why, yes," he said, "that's a good idea. That's fust-rate. You young folks go, and Mrs. Dunn and I'll wait here till you come back. That's the way of the world--young folks on the go, and the old folks at home by the fire, hey, Mrs. Dunn?"The lady addressed did not relish being numbered with "old folks,"but she smiled sweetly, and said she supposed it was. Malcolm telephoned to the garage and to Edwards at the Warren apartment, ordering the butler to deliver his mistress's auto cap and cloak to the chauffeur, who would call for them. A few minutes later the yellow car rolled up to the door.
In the hall Mrs. Dunn whispered a reassuring word to her departing guest.
"Now enjoy yourself, dear," she whispered. "Have a nice ride and don't worry about me. If he--if our encumbrance bores me too much I shall--well, I shall plead a headache and leave him to his own devices. Besides, he isn't so VERY dreadful, is he?"Caroline shook her head. "No," she answered, "he is a good man. Iunderstand him better than I did and--yes, I like him better, too.""Oh! . . . Indeed! Well, good-by, dear. Good-by."The yellow car roared as the chauffeur cranked it, then moved off up the crowded avenue. Mrs. Dunn watched it until it was out of sight. Her brows were drawn together, and she seemed puzzled and just a bit disconcerted. However, when she returned to the drawing-room, her gracious smile had returned, and her bland condescension was again in evidence.
Captain Elisha had been standing by the window. She begged him to be seated. He thanked her, but looked dubiously at the Louis XVIchair indicated. She noticed the look.
"Suppose we go into the library," she said. "It is much less formal. And there is a fire--for us OLD folks," with a slight accent on the word.