339
he said, as Barron rose from the writing-table. "Let me advise you to get him out of the country for a time."
Barron said nothing. He came heavily toward the window, and the two men stood looking at each other, overtaken both of them by a mounting wave of consciousness. The events, passions, emotions of the preceding months pressed into memory, and beat against the silence. But it was Meynell who turned pale.
"What a pity--to spoil the fight!" he said in a low voice. "It would have been splendid--to fight it--fair."
"I shall of course withdraw my name from the Arches suit," said Barron, leaning over a chair, his eyes on the ground.
Meynell did not reply. He took up his hat; only saying as he went toward the door:
"Remember--Flaxman holds his hand entirely. The situation is with you." Then, after a moment's hesitation, he added simply, almost shyly--"God help you! Won't you consult your daughter?"
Barron made no answer. The door opened and shut.
BOOK IV
MEYNELL AND MARY
".... but Life ere long Came on me in the public ways and bent Eyes deeper than of old; Death met I too, And saw the dawn glow through."
CHAPTER XX
A mild January day on the terrace of St. Germains. After a morning of hoar-frost the sun was shining brightly on the terrace, and on the panorama it commands. A pleasant light lay on the charming houses that front the skirts of the forest, on the blue-gray windings of the Seine, on the groves of leafless poplars interwoven with its course, on the plain with its thickly sown villages, on the height of Mont Valérien, behind which lay Paris. In spite of the sunshine, however, it was winter, and there was no movement in St. Germains. The terrace and the road leading from it to the town were deserted; and it was easy to see from the aspect of the famous hotel at the corner of the terrace that, although not closed, it despaired of visitors. Only a trio of French of