Lyra came downstairs, hooded and wrapped for departure, with Jack
Wilmington by her side. "Why, _Ellen_!" she said, looking into the
little alcove from the hall. "Are you here yet? And Annie! Where in the
world is Ralph?" At the pleading look with which Mrs. Putney replied, she
exclaimed: "Oh, it's what I was afraid of! I don't see what the woman could
have been about! But of course she didn't think of poor Ralph. Ellen, let
me take you and Winthrop home! Dr. Morrell will be sure to bring Ralph."
"Well," said Mrs. Putney passively, but without rising.
"Annie can come too. There's plenty of room. Jack can walk."
Jack Wilmington joined Lyra in urging Annie to take his place. He said to
her, apart, "Young Munger has been telling me that Putney got at the
sideboard and carried off the rum. I'll stay and help look after him."
A crazy laugh came into the parlour from the piazza outside, and the group
in the alcove started forward. Putney stood at a window, resting one arm
on the bar of the long lower sash, which was raised to its full height,
and looking ironically in upon Mrs. Munger and her remaining guests. He
was still in his Mercutio dress, but he had lost his plumed cap, and was
bareheaded. A pace or two behind him stood Mr. Peck, regarding the effect
of this apparition upon the company with the same dreamy, indrawn presence
he had in the pulpit.
"Well, Mrs. Munger, I'm glad I got back in time to tell you how much I've
enjoyed it. Brother Peck wanted me to go home, but I told him, Not till
I've thanked Mrs. Munger, Brother Peck; not till I've drunk her health in
her own old particular Jamaica." He put to his lips the black bottle which
he had been holding in his right hand behind him; then he took it away,
looked at it, and flung it rolling-along the piazza floor. "Didn't get hold
of the inexhaustible bottle that time; never do. But it's a good article;
a better article than you used to sell on the sly, Bill Gerrish. You'll
excuse my helping myself, Mrs. Munger; I knew you'd want me to. Well, it's
been a great occasion, Mrs. Munger." He winked at the hostess. "You've
had your little invited supper, after all. You're a manager, Mrs. Munger.
You've made even the wrath of Brother Peck to praise you."
The ladies involuntarily shrank backward as Putney suddenly entered through
the window and gained the corner of the piano at a dash. He stayed himself
against it, slightly swaying, and turned his flaming eyes from one to
another, as if questioning whom he should attack next.