Queer Judson by Joseph C. Lincoln — Read

When dinner, next day, was over Carey started as usual for the office. His brother was not with him, having again taken the early train on a business trip to Boston. George's frame of mind during the week just past had been the same curious combination of good spirits and bad which Carey fancied he had noticed of late and which he was inclined to believe dated from his--George's--former short sojourn in the city. At home, except for occasional lapses into absent-mindedness and silence, George was his jolly, joking self, especially when his wife was present, but at the office he was--or so it seemed to Carey--thoughtful, brusque and even gloomy. Instead of loitering in the outer room beside the bookkeeper's desk, chatting, smoking and exchanging badinage with callers, or with Early and his brother, he remained for the most part in his own little room at the back, and Carey, going in there to ask concerning matters of business routine, often found him sitting by the window, an unlighted cigar between his teeth, apparently lost in reveries which, judging by his expression, could not be pleasant. On the way home to dinner, or after closing time, he often suggested walking around by way of the post office and at that office he usually posted a bulky letter. He came to work earlier in the morning, apparently that he might be the first to look over the mail. In fact, he made it a point to see all mail the moment Jabez Drew brought it and Carey more than once saw him extract from the packet envelopes which he pocketed without comment and did not mention afterwards. That he was troubled his brother was now sure, but what that trouble might be Carey had no idea, nor, of course, did he ask.

This Monday morning, after Maggie had served his solitary breakfast--Cora was suffering from one of the headaches which were likely to follow her husband's departure on a city excursion to which she was not invited--and remained in her room--Carey left the house by the side door, as usual; but, instead of walking directly down to the gate, he turned to the right and hurried around to the back door, that opened from the washroom. Hepsibah was in the washroom, preparing for her Monday forenoon's labor at the tubs. He whistled to attract her attention and then beckoned her to the door. She came, wiping her arms on her apron.