The Man in Lonely Land | Page 3

For a moment there was silence, the silence of understanding comrades,
then Laine turned away and began to dress.

II
THE REQUEST
Hands in his pockets and back to the fire, Mr. Winthrop Laine looked
around the room which his sister, Mrs. Channing Warrick, believed
was a library, and again wondered why she had sent for him instead of
telephoning what she wanted. He wasn't going to do it. That is, if it
were one of the old pleadings that he would come to her parties or go to
some one else's he would decline to do it, and usually the important
matter on which she must see him proved something of that sort. Five
years ago he had cut out things of this kind and--
"Oh, Winthrop, I'm so glad you've come!" Laine stooped and kissed his
sister. "And going out to prove it." In a gown of clinging silver over
soft satin she was very lovely, and as he held her off he looked at her
critically. "That is a pretty dress you have on, but there isn't enough of
it. What on earth did you make me come for if you're going out? When
a man is my age he is privileged to stay at home and enjoy himself,
not--"
Mrs. Channing Warrick stopped the buttoning of her long white gloves
and looked up in her brother's face. "Do you enjoy yourself when you

stay at home?"
"I enjoy myself much more at home than in other people's houses.
Where are you going to-night?"
"To the Warings. There'll be cards after dinner. I suppose you
declined."
"I wasn't invited."
"Hilda wanted you, but knew it was useless." Again the big blue eyes
were raised to her brother's. "What makes you so horrid, Winthrop? If
you go on ignoring people as you do--"
"I'll have to have paid pall-bearers at my funeral, won't I? Not a bad
idea. Well, why this summons to-night?"
Mrs. Warrick pressed the last button of her glove securely, eased her
skirt over her hips, and sat down carefully. "To ask you to do
something for me," she said. "Channing won't be back until to-morrow,
and there is no one to meet her except Decker if you don't. Outside of
an automobile Decker has no sense and--"
"Meet whom?" Laine flicked the ashes from his cigar into the grate.
"Who is it you want me to meet?"
"Claudia Keith. She is a cousin of Channing's and lives somewhere in
Virginia on the Rappahannock River, miles from a railroad, and has
never been to New York alone before. I thought I had told you she was
coming, but I see you so seldom lately that I forget what I tell you and
what I don't. The children think it's inhuman. After a while you won't
know how to behave in company, and what will your old books and
your money matter if--"
"By and by nothing will matter, my dear, but Decker's honk will be
heard before I understand what you're getting at, if you don't hurry.
What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to meet the nine-fifteen train from the South and--"
"Pick out an unknown person and bring her to a hostless house? I wish
I was as nice as you think I am, dear madam, but I'm not. I suppose you
also want me to apologize to your guest for your absence from home,
tell her a pretty fairy tale and say--"
"If you'd say the right thing I'd like you to make up something, but you
wouldn't. I certainly have no idea of breaking an engagement, however,
just to be home when a country cousin of Channing's arrives. Being
such an out-of-the-world sort of person she may think it is strange, so

please tell her--"
"I'll tell her nothing." Laine lighted a fresh cigar. "I'm going home."
"But you can't! You're to stay to dinner, that's why I didn't telephone
you about Claudia. The children chose taking dinner with you as their
compensation for having to stay in on account of the weather, and
they're hanging over the banisters this very minute." Mrs. Warrick got
up and with care straightened her skimpy skirts. "Please don't let them
eat too much. They can have--"
"Not a bit more than they want." Laine took the white fur coat which
the maid had laid on the chair a minute before and held it for his sister
to put on. "All this sloppy stuff given to children of the present day will
mean anemic men and women to-morrow. I'll take dinner with them,
and if they are sick I'll take the blame, but not if the Virginian has
opinions of her own concerning modern manners. Are you sure you're
well wrapped?"
"Sure. I