He followed the directions carefully, and she extended her hand for the cup.
“There is always a woman in a man’s tea-cup,” she began. “There are two in this one.”
“Good gracious!”
“Yes. Do you see that?” pointing to a cluster of leaves.
“Looks like a camel. Am I going to be thirsty?”
“That always indicates scandal,” she declared soberly.
“Scandal?” He smiled skeptically.
“Scandal and disappointment. But happily these do not appear as having permanency.”
“Thanks,” piously. “Disappointment? I can readily believe that. Disappointment has always been my portion. But scandal has never lifted her ugly head.”
“We are all far-sighted when scandal is in our immediate vicinity. This cup says scandal. There is plenty of money about you. See that? That means an enemy, strong, implacable. Disappointment and scandal are in his zone, which means he will probably be the cause of all your trouble. Have you an enemy?”
“None that I know of, save myself. But don’t you think something is the matter with the tea? It seems impossible that those harmless grounds ... Why, I shan’t sleep o’ nights after this.”
“You are laughing. Yet, this man is there. And here is a lie, too. It’s a very bad cup, Mr. Warrington. I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” gaily. “By the way, when do you and your mother start for New York?”
“We leave to-night.”
“Good. Do you mind if I take the same train down?”
“Mother and I’ll be glad to have you with us.”
The servant cleared the table, and Warrington lighted a cigar. A trolley-car rolled up in front of the club, and several golf enthusiasts alighted. They knew Patty, and bowed; they weren’t quite certain who her escort was.
At two o’clock they began the journey home. There wasn’t much loitering by the way. Patty had a tea; she must have time to rest and dress. All told, it was an enjoyable day for Warrington. More than ever he set his face against the great city and looked with satisfaction on the hills of his childhood. It would be a pleasant pastime to sit on Patty’s veranda and talk, become, and act like one of the young people. He was growing old; his youth must be renewed soon, or he would lose it utterly. This young man had been surfeited with noise and light, with the sham and glitter of hotels, clubs and restaurants. He was not to the manner born; thus he could easily see how palpably false life is in a great city. To those who have lived in the abnormal glamour of city life, absolute quiet is a kind of new excitement.
Warrington found that he was a bit stiff from the long ride.