Mrs. Falchion laughed. “I am sure you and I will be good friends; you are amusing. And, to be perfectly frank with you, I am very weary of trying to live in the intellectual altitudes of Dr. Marmion--and The Padre.”
I had never seen her in a greater strain of gaiety. It had almost a kind of feverishness--as if she relished fully the position she held towards Roscoe and Ruth, her power over their future, and her belief (as I think was in her mind then) that she could bring back to her self Roscoe’s old allegiance. That she believed this, I was convinced; that she would never carry it out, was just as strong: for I, though only the chorus in the drama, might one day find it in my power to become, for a moment, one of the principal actors--from which position I had declined one day when humiliated before Mrs. Falchion on the ‘Fulvia’. Boyd Madras was in my mind.
After a few minutes we parted, agreeing to meet again in the valley in the evening. I had promised, as Mrs. Falchion had suggested, to escort her and Justine Caron from the summer hotel to the mill. Roscoe had duties at both Viking and Sunburst and would not join us until we all met in the evening. Mr. Devlin and Ruth rode away towards Sunburst. Mrs. Falchion, Justine, and myself travelled slowly up the hillside, talking chiefly upon the events of the morning. Mrs. Falchion appeared to admire greatly the stalwart character of Mr. Devlin; in a few swift, complimentary words disposed of Ruth; and then made many inquiries concerning Roscoe’s work, my own position, and the length of my stay in the mountains; and talked upon many trivial matters, never once referring--as it seemed to me, purposely--to our past experiences on the ‘Fulvia’, nor making any inquiry concerning any one except Belle Treherne.
She showed no surprise when I told her that I expected to marry Miss Treherne. She congratulated me with apparent frankness, and asked for Miss Treherne’s address, saying she would write to her. As soon as she had left Roscoe’s presence she had dropped all enigmatical words and phrases, and, during this hour I was with her, was the tactful, accomplished woman of the world, with the one present object: to make her conversation agreeable, and to keep things on the surface. Justine Caron scarcely spoke during the whole of our walk, although I addressed myself to her frequently. But I could see that she watched Mrs. Falchion’s face curiously; and I believe that at this time her instinct was keener by far to read what was in Mrs. Falchion’s mind than my own, though I knew much more of the hidden chain of events connecting Mrs. Falchion’s life and Galt Roscoe’s.