Tom met him with a smile and
asked no questions. "Come," he said, and taking Hugh by the arm led him to
the buggy. As he untied the horse he stopped to light a cigar. "I'm going
down to one of my lower farms. Clara thought you would like to go with me,"
he said blandly.
Tom drove to the McCoy house and stopped.
"You'd better clean up a little," he said without looking at Hugh. "You go
in and shave and change your clothes. I'm going up-town. I got to go to a
store."
Driving a short distance along the road, Tom stopped and shouted. "You
might pack your grip and bring it along," he called. "You'll be needing
your things. We won't be back here to-day."
The two men stayed together all that day, and in the evening Tom took Hugh
to the farmhouse and stayed for the evening meal. "He was a little drunk,"
he explained to Clara. "Don't be hard on him. He was a little drunk."
For both Clara and Hugh that evening was the hardest of their lives. After
the servants had gone, Clara sat under a lamp in the dining-room and
pretended to read a book and in desperation Hugh also tried to read.
Again the time came to go upstairs to the bedroom, and again Clara led the
way. She went to the door of the room from which Hugh had fled and opening
it stepped aside. Then she put out her hand. "Good-night," she said, and
going down a hallway went into another room and closed the door.
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