There'll be plenty left for the
church and house?"
"Oh yes, miss."
"And for Father Mahon?"
"Oh yes, miss."
"Very well, then. Will you remember that? A good wreath, with fern, on
the morning of the twentieth. If you'll just leave it here I'll call
for it about twelve o'clock. You needn't send it up to the house."
_Chapter VI_
I
Laurie was sitting in his room after breakfast, filling his briar pipe
thoughtfully, and contemplating his journey to Stantons.
It was more than six weeks now since his experience in Queen's Gate,
and he had gone through a variety of emotions. Bewildered terror was
the first, a nervous interest the next, a truculent skepticism the
third; and lately, to his astonishment, the nervous interest had begun
to revive.
At first he had been filled with unreasoning fear. He had walked back
as far as the gate of the park, hardly knowing where he went,
conscious only that he must be in the company of his fellows; upon
finding himself on the south side of Hyde Park Corner, where travelers
were few, he had crossed over in nervous haste to where he might
jostle human beings. Then he had dined in a restaurant, knowing that a
band would be playing there, and had drunk a bottle of champagne; he
had gone to his rooms, cheered and excited, and had leapt instantly
into bed for fear that his courage should evaporate.
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