"I think," said Nick, when he had learned that the McCloud was to be "hitched" to a train, in the afternoon, "I'd better be getting on. I might as well say good-bye to you all now." When he shook hands with Mrs. May, Falconer and Sonia Dobieski turned aside a little, speaking to each other. "I hope you understand, Mr. Hilliard, and don't think I'm being rude after all your kindness," Angela said, melting a little; "I could hardly refuse them, when it was a question of chaperoning a newly engaged couple; and I thought you would join us, of course."
This concession gave Nick an unexpected chance. He dared to hope that it was an olive branch held out. "Did you really think that?" he asked quickly, in a low voice.
"Oh, I don't know! That's the trouble. But--if you did think it, maybe you'll let me see you again--maybe this won't be good-bye for always?"
"Dear me, I hope not, indeed!" she answered in a light, frivolous tone again. "We're sure to meet. You come to San Francisco sometimes I've heard you say. I shall be there--oh, ages."
"You'll let me call?" Nick was faintly--very faintly--encouraged, not to hope for much, but for a very little; for a chance to retrieve some of the ground he had lost in a night; to begin low down, and work up.
"I shall be glad to see you at the Fairmont Hotel, when I get there." She was almost too frankly cordial suddenly. The tone would have been perfect if the words had been spoken in New Orleans, before a thousand things had happened. But they had passed that stage now--for good or ill.
Then they finished shaking hands, and a few minutes later Nick left her with Falconer and Sonia Dobieski. The instant he had gone, Angela would have given a good deal to call him back, although she was sure she had done only her duty to herself and him.
Her reasons for the great change were not mysterious at all. They were very clear, and seemed to her very virtuous, very praiseworthy--up to the last minute. Then she thought that she was a prig, and a wretch, and several other things which she would have been furious to be thought by anybody else. She had wanted Nick to realize--that is, she had felt it her duty to make him realize--that things could not go on as they were, after last night. She had been incredibly silly in the Mission church. All night long she had scolded herself for the way she had "behaved" and let the "forest creature" behave--holding her hand, and sitting as close to her on the gallery stairs as if they were engaged in a desperate ballroom flirtation. She must show him that she was not really a stupid, sentimental person. She made up her mind that they must begin all over again, the very first thing in the morning; and, true to her resolution, she had, indeed, begun all over again. She had torn a hole in the net which was binding them together--all through her own silly fault!