"Oh, to skate in the moonlight! I have always longed to do that above all things. May I go to the river all by myself, Mr. Wilmott? It would be so mysterious, so eerie, to skate in the moonlight".
"Miss Daisy is bored by us, D’Arcy", said Brent. "We talk too much about ourselves".
"On the contrary", said his friend, "she wishes to be alone to decide which of us she loves best".
Philip passed a large white handkerchief across his forehead. "You keep your house confoundedly hot, Wilmott. I believe I shall go skating with Miss Daisy and help her make a choice-if she’ll allow me".
"Oh, heavenly!" cried Daisy. "I should adore that".
Brent asked, "Can you feel mysterious and eerie skating with Captain Whiteoak?"
"We shall drift over the ice like disembodied spirits", she returned.
Wilmott looked anxiously at Philip. "I’m afraid you are taking cold", he said, and laid his fingers on Philip’s wrist as though he had been a doctor.
Philip looked down at their two hands and then, rather puzzled, into Wilmott’s eyes. Wilmott had a feeling of anger against the three who knew his secret. He felt that Philip was the only true and honourable one of all those in the room.
When the door had closed behind Daisy and Philip, there was silence for a space. One of the two candies on the table was sputtering. Its flame hung low and sickly. But the moonlight strengthened, throwing the outline of the window-panes sharply on the bare floor. Wilmott got up and snuffed the candle which now burned steadily but very small.
The three from Ireland had brought some essence of their country into the room. It felt foreign to Wilmott, and himself a stranger. The others waited for him to say something.
"Among you", he said, "you have placed me in a pretty position".
"I–I don’t understand. What do you mean?" asked Brent blankly.
"I am a man who first deserted his wife and daughter and then allowed them to be sent on a fool’s errand".
"Why-" said Brent, "we thought you’d be pleased".
"After what Mrs. Whiteoak had told us", put in D’Arcy, then he too stared blankly and stopped.
"It’s not what we’ve done", said Adeline. "It’s the way we have done it".
"I can look nothing but a scoundrel to anyone". Wilmott spoke bitterly.
D’Arcy ran his hand through his hair. "Now look here", he said. "I’m no bachelor. I’ve been separated from my wife for years. I know how you feel. Sometimes you think it may have been your fault".
"You only had to meet Mrs. Wilmott", said Brent, "to realise who is to blame in this case. I’d run around the globe to escape that woman".
"She’s a terror", added D’Arcy. "You can see that. It’s self-self-self with her and never stop talking".
"No man could stand it". Brent spoke in a soothing tone.
D’Arcy raised his voice. "With my wife it was a violent temper. She’d fly off the handle for next to nothing and throw things at me or at the servants".
Wilmott sat hunched up. He drew back his lips and tapped his teeth with his finger-nails.
"You don’t wish I had let Henrietta come here, do you, James?" asked Adeline.
"No".
"You aren’t sorry I got her out of the country?"
"How can I be?"
"Then what is wrong?"
"Everything".
"Don’t imagine we did not treat her in a gentlemanlike way", said Brent. "We were most considerate".
"It was a lark to you", exclaimed Wilmott.
"It was no lark at all", said Brent. "We took it very seriously. We were considerate but firm".
"You sent her on a fool’s errand to a half-civilised country!"
"Mexico was civilised", said D’Arcy, "long before this part of the country. And I think that the lady really wanted to see it".
"The trouble with Wilmott is that he has too lively a conscience", put in Brent.
"No, it’s not that", said Wilmott, "but what I did was a thing that should be kept secret in a man’s own mind. When you bring it out into the light it looks much worse. It looks like a crime, which I suppose it really is".
"I understand"-D’Arcy spoke patiently-"that you gave your wife practically all you had. You certainly are not living in luxury here. All you deny her is your presence".
To this Brent added, "And to judge from all she said, you didn’t make her happy when you were with her".
"No-far from it".
Adeline’s eyes were large and gentle as they rested on Wilmott, but it was to the others she spoke.
"What the poor man needs is a drink. He is tired after his party and all. Is there nothing but that little drop of punch in the house?"
The three looked at Wilmott as though he were an invalid. He felt hypnotised. D’Arcy rose and tiptoed to the cupboard. His shadow on the wall was enormous. He brought out a bottle more than half full of rum. He held it at arm’s length and looked through it at the candle-flame. They could hear Daisy laughing on the river.
"There are tumblers on the shelf", said Wilmott, as though he were in truth an invalid.
"Will you have a taste of spirits, Mrs. Whiteoak?" asked D’Arcy.
"No, no, thank you. I shall finish the punch".
Wilmott took a drink and began to laugh. "It’s all rather funny", he said. "It’s as though we were in the cabin of the Alanna again. Only that outside there is a sea of snow".
"Thank God we are here and not there", said Adeline.
There was silence except for the soft flapping of a flame against a log. Then Brent spoke. "Wherever I go I find life amusing. I may be sad for a little but I am soon amused again".
"I am the same", said Wilmott.
D’Arcy refilled his glass. "I am never greatly amused or greatly sad. I am critical, analytical, and philosophic".
"I am the same", said Adeline.
When the skaters came in, Nero bounded after them. He stood in the middle of the room and shook himself, sending out a snow-shower. Then he laid the side of his face on the floor and pushed it rapidly first in one direction, then in another.
"He is like an elephant in the room", said Wilmott. "When I get a dog it must be a small one I can tuck under my arm. Did I tell you that Tite has a pet raccoon?"
Philip and Daisy had cheeks like roses after the cold air. Their eyes were bright and they had some joke between them. Both refused anything to drink.
"I am starving", Daisy said, unwinding yards of pale-blue crocheted scarf from about her neck. "I had nothing but a piece of plum cake and a cup of coffee".
"I’m enormously hungry also", said Philip. "Have you a cold game pie in your larder, Wilmott? And some bottles of stout?"
Nero lay down at Adeline’s feet and began to lick the snow from his great paws.
"He’s no less than a snow-drift beside you", exclaimed Wilmott. He sprang up and dragged Nero in front of the fire. Nero gave him a long, puzzled, mournful look, then returned to the licking of his paws.
Wilmott bent over Philip. "I have nothing in the house", he said, "but a side of bacon, some eggs from my own hens, some cold boiled potatoes and a jar of apple butter".
"A meal fit for a prince", said Philip. "Daisy and I will cook it".
Adeline thought, "Miss Daisy when they went out to skate-Daisy when they come back. I wish she’d settle down to chasing only one man".
Daisy arranged her ringlets on her shoulders. "This is the happiest day of my life", she said. "If you knew how conventional it’s been you would understand. But now I’ve left it all behind. I’m a pioneer. If I had heard a wolf howling outside I’d not be afraid. I’d just take that gun and go out and shoot him".