She crouched on the shore, a rather forlorn figure. The peaks of the
Mission Range, across the violet-shadowed mirror of Flathead Lake, were
a sudden pure rose, in reflection of sunset, then stony, forbidding.
Across the road, on the Barmberry porch, she could hear her father
saying "Ah?" and "Indeed?" to James's stories.
Up the road, a blaring horn, great lights growing momently more
dazzling, a roar, a rush, the halting car, and out of its blurred bulk,
a trim figure darting--Jeff Saxton--home and the people she loved, and
the ways and days she knew best of all. He had shouted only "Is
Miss----" before she had rushed to him, into the comfort of his arms,
and kissed him.
She backed off and tried to sound as if it hadn't happened, but she was
quavery: "I can't believe it! It's too ridiculously wonderful to see
you!" She retreated toward the Barmberry porch, Jeff following, his two
hands out. They came within the range of the house lights, and Mr.
Boltwood hailed, "Ah! Geoffrey! Never had such a surprise--nor a more
delightful one!"
"Mr. Boltwood! Looking splendid, sir! New man! William Street better
look to its laurels when you come back and get into the game!"
Then, on the lamp-lighted porch, the two men shook hands, and looked for
some other cordial thing to do. They thought about giving each other
cigars. They smiled, and backed away, and smiled, in the foolish,
indeterminate way males have, being unable to take it out in kissing.
Mr. Boltwood solved the situation by hemming, "Must trot in and wash.
See you very soon." Mr. James Barmberry and the squad of lesser
Barmberrys regretfully followed. Claire was alone with Jeff, and she was
frightened. Yet she was admitting that Jeff, in his English cap and
flaring London top-coat, his keen smile and his extreme shavedness, was
more attractive than she had remembered.
"Glad to see me?" he demanded.
"Oh, rather!"
"You're looking----"
"You're so----"
"Nice trip? You know you've sent me nothing but postcards with 'Pretty
town,' or something equally sentimental."
"Yes, it's really been bully. These mountains and big spaces simply
inspire me." She said it rather defiantly.
"Of course they do! Trouble is, with you away, we've nothing to inspire
us!"
"Do you need anything, with your office and your club?"
"Why, Claire!"
"I'm sorry. That was horrid of me."
"Yes, it was. Though I don't mind. I'm sure we've all become meek,
missing you so. I'm quite willing to be bullied, and reminded that I'm a
mere T.B.M."
She had got herself into it; she had to tell him that he wasn't just a
business man; that she had "just meant" he was so practical.
"But Jeff is no longer the practical one," he declared. "Think of Claire
driving over deserts and mountains. But---- Oh, it's been so lonely for
us. Can you guess how much? A dozen times every evening, I've turned to
the telephone to call you up and beg you to let me nip in and see you,
and then realized you weren't there, and I've just sat looking at the
'phone---- Oh, other people are so dull!"