The widow sat in her room,innocently reading the newspaper.A cake happened to be on the table at her side;and a bottle of sparkling lemonade,by the merest coincidence,was in the near neighborhood of the cake.Jack's eyes brightened,as they turned towards the table when he entered the room.
"And those are the gloves!"said Madame Fontaine,with her head held critically a little on one side,as if she was a connoisseur enjoying a fine picture."How very pretty!And what good taste you have!"Jack (with his eyes still on the cake)accepted these flattering expressions as no more than his due."I am pleased with my walk,"he remarked."I have made a successful appearance in public.When the general attention was not occupied with my bag of keys,it was absorbed in my gloves.I showed a becoming modesty--I took no notice of anybody.""Perhaps your walk has given you a little appetite?"the widow suggested.
"What did you say?"cried Jack."Appetite!Upon my soul,I could eat--No,that's not gentleman-like.Mistress gave me one of her looks when Isaid 'Upon my soul'down in the office.Thank you.Yes;I like cake.
Excuse me--I hope it has got plums in it?"
"Plums and other fine things besides.Taste!"Jack tried hard to preserve his good manners,and only taste as he was told.But the laws of Nature were too much for him.He was as fond of sweet things as a child--he gobbled."I say,you're uncommonly good to me all of a sudden,"he exclaimed between the bites."You didn't make much of me like this at Wurzburg!"He had given Madame Fontaine her opportunity.She was not the woman to let it slip."Oh,Jack!"she said,in tones of gentle reproach,"didn't Inurse you at Wurzburg?"
"Well,"Jack admitted,"you did something of the sort.""What do you mean?"
He had finished his first slice of cake;his politeness began to show signs of wearing out.
"You did what my master the Doctor told you to do,"he said."But I don't believe you cared whether I lived or died.When you had to tuck me up in bed,for instance,you did it with the grossest indifference.Ha!you have improved since that time.Give me some more cake.Never mind cutting it thick.Is that bottle of lemonade for me?""You hardly deserve it,Jack,after the way you have spoken of me.Don't you remember,"she added,cautiously leading him back to the point,"Iused to make your lemonade when you were ill?"Jack persisted in wandering away from the point."You are so hungry for compliments,"he objected."Haven't I told you that you have improved?
Only go on as you are going on now,and I dare say I shall put you next to Mistress in my estimation,one of these days.Let the cork go out with a pop;I like noises of all kinds.Your good health!Is it manners to smack one's lips after lemonade?--it is such good stuff,and there's _such_pleasure in feeling it sting one's throat as it goes down.You didn't give me such lemonade as this,when I was ill--Oh!that reminds me.""Reminds you of something that happened at Wurzburg?"Madame Fontaine inquired.
"Yes.Wait a bit.I'm going to try how the cake tastes dipped in lemonade.Ha!ha!how it fizzes as I stir it round!Yes;something that happened at Wurzburg,as you say.I asked David about it,the morning he went away.But the coach was waiting for him;and he ran off without saying a word.I call that rude."He was still stirring his lemonade with his bit of cake--or he might have seen something in the widow's face that would have startled him.He did look up,when she spoke to him.His sense of hearing was his quickest sense;and he was struck by the sudden change in her voice.
"What did you ask David?"--was all she ventured to say.
Jack still looked at her."Anything the matter with you?"he inquired.
"Nothing.What did you ask David?"
"Something I wanted to know."
"Perhaps _I_can tell you what you want to know?""I shouldn't wonder.No:dipping the cake in lemonade doesn't improve it,and it leaves crumbs in the drink.""Throw away that bit of cake,Jack,and have some more.
"May I help myself?"
"Certainly.But you haven't told me yet what you want to know.
At last he answered directly."What I want to know is this,"he said.
"Who poisoned Mr.Keller?"
He was cutting the cake as he spoke,and extracted a piece of candied orange peel with the point of the knife.Once more,the widow's face had escaped observation.She turned away quickly,and occupied herself in mending the fire.In this position,her back was turned towards the table--she could trust herself to speak.
"You are talking nonsense!"she said.
Jack stopped--with the cake half-way to his mouth.Here was a direct attack on his dignity,and he was not disposed to put up with it."Inever talk nonsense,"he answered sharply.
"You do,"Madame Fontaine rejoined,just as sharply on her side."Mr.
Keller fell ill,as anyone else might fall ill.Nobody poisoned him."Jack got on his legs.For the moment he actually forgot the cake.