Thereby Hangs a Tale Part 47

"Lucky--why?" said Pratt.

"Because I want to go. But why are you looking so doleful?"

"Natural aspect, d.i.c.k. I only came to tell you I should not go."

"Not go! Why?"

"Because I am going back to town."

"Are you upset, Franky? Is anything wrong? I've been rude, I suppose, and said something that put you out this morning."

"No--oh no!"

"But I'm sure that must have been it. But really, old fellow, I was much obliged. Franky, you were quite right--it is as you say; so if I said anything when I was hipped, forgive me."

"d.i.c.k, old fellow," cried Pratt, grasping the extended hand, "don't talk of forgiveness to me. I have been here too long; this idle life don't suit me, and I've got to work."

"Work, then, and help me through my troubles. I can't spare you."

"d.i.c.k, old fellow, I feel that I must go. Don't ask me why."

"No, I won't ask you why," said Trevor, eyeing him curiously; "but, to oblige me, stay over this Friday, and go with me to the dinner."

Pratt hesitated a moment.

"Well, I will," he said; and the conversation ended.

During the intervening days Trevor was too much excited to say anything to Mrs Lloyd. He called at Tolcarne twice, but the ladies were out.

He tried every walk in the neighbourhood, but without avail; and at last, blaming himself bitterly for his neglect of his guests, and thinking that the opportunity he sought must come on the Friday, he determined to try and make up for the past by attending to Vanleigh and Landells.

"I'll talk to Lady Rea about it--that's; how I'll manage," he said.

"She's a good, motherly soul, and will set me right, I'm sure. I know-- tell her I want advice and counsel; ask her to help me counteract Mrs Lloyd's designs."

Trevor laughed over what he considered the depth of his plans, and after dinner that night was in excellent spirits, losing thirty guineas to Vanleigh in a cheery way that made Pratt shudder for his recklessness, and bite his lips with annoyance at the cool manner in which the money was swept up.

"By the way," said Trevor, as they sat smoking, "what do you say to a sail to-morrow?--the yacht's in trim now, and the weather delightful."

"Thanks--no," said Vanleigh. "I don't think we can go, eh, Landells?"

"Jove!--no; drive, you know, with the old gentleman."

Trevor looked inquiringly from one to the other.

"Fact is," said Vanleigh, coolly, "Sir Hampton Rea has asked us to join him in a little picnic excursion to the north coast--drive over, you know, to-morrow. Yes, Thursday," he said, looking at his little note-book--one which usually did duty for betting purposes--"Yes, Thursday, and Friday we all dine there, of course."

"Yes, of course," said Trevor, in a quiet, constrained way, which made Sir Felix, who had already felt rather hot and confused, colour like a girl.

"Mustn't mind our running away from you so much, Trevor," continued Vanleigh, with a smile, which the former felt carried a sneer, and an allusion to his own playing of the absentee. "Fact is, the old gentleman seems to be rather taken with Flick here."

"'Sure you, no," said Sir Felix, excitedly; "it's the other way, Trevor.

Makes no end of Van, showing him over grounds, asking 'vice, you know, and that sort of thing."

"I am glad you find the place so much more agreeable than you expected,"

said Trevor, gravely.

"Never s' jolly in m' life, Trevor," said Sir Felix, excitedly, and speaking nervously and fast. "Fine old fellow, S' Hampton. Fitting up b'liard-room. 'L have game after come back."

"Take another cigar," said Trevor, and his voice was very deep, as he seemed now to be exerting himself all that he could to make up for his past neglect to those whom he had invited down as his friends.

"Vanleigh, you are taking nothing."

"I'm doing admirably, dear boy," said the captain, in the most affectionate of tones; and then to himself--"What does that little cad mean by watching me as he does?"

He smiled pleasantly, though, all the while, and when, to pa.s.s the time away, and conceal his trouble, Trevor once more proposed cards, the captain condescended to take "that little cad" as his partner, and between them they won fifty pounds of Trevor and Sir Felix--the latter throwing the cards petulantly down, and vowing he would play no more.

"Good night, dear boy," said Vanleigh, rising and yawning a few minutes after smilingly taking his winnings. "It's past one, and we shall be having our respected friend, Mrs Lloyd, to send us to bed."

A sharp retort was on Trevor's lip, but he checked it, and with a courtesy that was grave in spite of his efforts, wished him good night, saying--

"There is no fear of that; Mrs Lloyd and I understand each other pretty well now."

"Ya-as, exactly," said Vanleigh; and he went out whistling softly.

"Good night, Trevor," said Sir Felix, in turn. "'Fraid we're doocid bad comp'ny. Too bad, I'm sure, going 'way as we do."

"Good night, Flick," said Trevor, smiling; and then, as the door closed, he turned to find Pratt leaning against the chimneypiece, counting over his winnings. "Well, my lad!" continued Trevor, trying to be gay.

"Twenty-five pounds, d.i.c.k," said Pratt, laying the money on the table.

"I shan't take that."

"Nonsense, man," said Trevor; "keep it till Van wins it back. But what's the matter? Have you found another of your mare's-nests?"

"I was thinking, d.i.c.k," said Pratt, gravely, "that you must be very sorry you asked any of us here."

Trevor's lips parted to speak; but without a word he wrung his friend's hand, took his candle, and hastily left the room.

Volume 2, Chapter XIII.

BEFORE DINNER.

It was a busy day at Tolcarne, that of the dinner party. The picnic had not been a success. In fact, at one time, when very much bored by the attentions of Vanleigh, Tiny had gazed out to sea at a pretty little yacht gliding by, and longed to be on board--innocent, poor girl! of the fact that d.i.c.k Trevor was lying on the deck with a powerful lorgnette, seeing the party distinctly, and plainly making out the captain leaning on the rock by her side.

Fin, too, was no wiser--though, for quite a quarter of an hour Frank Pratt was gazing, with knitted brow, through a second lorgnette at the little rocky cove where Sir Felix Landells was pestering her with attentions, and evidently labouring under the impression that unless she partook of lobster salad every five minutes she must feel faint.

Aunt Matty was the only really happy person in the party. She had, to the dismay of all, announced her intention of going, feeling sure that the change would benefit Pepine; and the way in which Vanleigh and Landells tried in emulation to gratify her whims was most flattering to her.

Not that she was deceived by the attentions, and imagined them extorted by her charms; she knew well enough the visitors' aims, and was gratified at their discernment.

"They know how much depends upon my opinion," she said to herself; and she smiled graciously upon them both as one carried Pepine down the rocks, the other her shawl, and gave his arm; ending by playfully sending them afterwards to the girls.