CHAPTER X.
LEX NON SCRIPTA Selwyn had gone to New York with Gerald, "for a few days," as he expressed it; but it was now the first week in October, and he had not yet returned to Silverside.
A brief note to Nina thanking her for having had him at Silverside, and speaking vaguely of some business matters which might detain him indefinitely--a briefer note to Eileen regretting his inability to return for the present--were all the communication they had from him except news brought by Austin, who came down from town every Friday.
A long letter to him from Nina still remained unanswered; Austin had seen him only once in town; Lansing, now back in New York, wrote a postscript in a letter to Drina, asking for Selwyn's new address--the first intimation anybody had that he had given up his lodgings on Lexington Avenue.
"I was perfectly astonished to find he had gone, leaving no address," wrote Boots; "and nobody knows anything about him at his clubs.

I have an idea that he may have gone to Washington to see about the Chaosite affair; but if you have any address except his clubs, please send it to me." Eileen had not written him; his sudden leave-taking nearly a month ago had so astounded her that she could not believe he meant to be gone more than a day or two.

Then came his note, written at the Patroons' Club--very brief, curiously stilted and formal, with a strange tone of finality through it, as though he were taking perfunctory leave of people who had come temporarily into his life, and as though the chances were agreeably even of his ever seeing them again.
The girl was not hurt, as yet; she remained merely confused, incredulous, unreconciled.

That there was to be some further explanation of his silence she never dreamed of doubting; and there seemed to be nothing to do in the interval but await it.

As for writing him, some instinct forbade it, even when Nina suggested that she write, adding laughingly that nothing else seemed likely to stir her brother.
For the first few days the children clamoured intermittently for him; but children forget, and Billy continued to cast out his pack in undying hope of a fox or bunny, and the younger children brought their butterfly-nets and sand-shovels to Austin and Nina for repairs; and Drina, when Boots deserted her for his Air Line Company, struck up a wholesome and lively friendship with a dozen subfreshmen and the younger Orchil girls, and began to play golf like a little fiend.
It was possible, now, to ride cross-country; and Nina, who was always in terror of an added ounce to her perfect figure, rode every day with Eileen; and Austin, on a big hunter, joined them two days in the week.
There were dances, too, and Nina went to some of them.