In the interval of awkward silence, Briscoe remained motionless in his
easy chair, a rueful reflectiveness on his genial face incongruous with
its habitual expression. When a sudden disconcerted intentness developed
upon it, Bayne, every instinct on the alert, took instant heed of the
change. The obvious accession of dismay betokened the increasing
acuteness of the crisis, and Briscoe's attitude, as of helpless
paralysis, stricken as it were into stone as he gazed toward the door,
heralded an approach.
There were light footfalls on the veranda, a sudden shadow at the door.
The next moment two ladies were entering, their hands full of autumn
leaves, trophies of their long walk. Bayne, summoning to his aid all the
conservative influences of pride and self-respect, was able to maintain
an aspect of grave composure as, fully warned, he turned to meet them.
Nevertheless, the element of surprise to the new-comers rendered it an
awkward moment to all the group. Mrs. Briscoe, considerably in advance
of her guest, paled at the sight of him, and, silent and visibly
shocked, paused as abruptly as if she beheld a ghost.
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