One Maid's Mischief - BestLightNovel.com
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"The Princess," was the reply.
"Oh, she's all right then. Good-night, Bolter, if you must go. Won't you have just one wee drappie mair?"
The doctor shook his head with Spartan fort.i.tude, and b.u.t.toned up his coat, but only to unb.u.t.ton it directly.
"Good-night, Stuart; we'll take your little la.s.s home."
"Thankye; do," was the reply, and the dry old Scot sat back in his chair chuckling, as he saw the doctor marched off.
"Seen Helen about, Stuart?" said Mr Perowne, coming up five minutes later.
"No; not for an hour."
"If you see her, tell her I'm up by the drawing-room window. People keep going, and she's not here."
"All right."
"By the way, when can I see you to-morrow?" said Mr Perowne, eagerly.
"I want to chat over that matter with you."
"I shall be in my office all day if you like to call."
"Yes; to be sure--of course. I'll call in," said the merchant, hastily, as if the business was unpleasant to him; and he went away muttering.
"Hah!" grunted the old merchant, "pride must have a fall, they say; and when pride does fall, it always b.u.mps itself pretty hard upon the stones."
The remarks made by Mrs Bolter to her husband, as they left the old Scotch merchant, were of rather a forcible nature; but there was this excuse for her: that she was very hot and extremely tired after the long evening in the enervating climate; and this had no doubt acidified her temper. But no matter what she said, the amiable little doctor took it all in good part.
He was a naturalist and student of the human frame, and it was quite natural, he told himself, that his wife should be cross now that she was weary.
"Babies are always fretful when they are tired," he said to himself; "and a woman is only a grownup baby. Poor little soul! she will be all right in the morning."
"Why are we going in this direction, Dr Bolter?" said the little lady.
"This is not the nearest way to the gate."
"Must go and say good-night to Perowne and Madam Helen," he replied.
"They would not miss us," said Mrs Doctor, tartly. "I daresay we should only be interrupting some pleasant flirtation."
"Oh--oh--oh! I say," said the doctor, jocularly. "For shame, my dear, for shame! I'll tell Perowne what you say about his flirtations."
"Don't be foolish, Bolter," said his wife, sharply. "You know what I mean."
"What, about Perowne flirting with the ladies?" he said, with a smothered chuckle.
"About Helen Perowne," she said, shortly. "Well, here we are upon the lawn, and of course there's no host here and no hostess."
"But there's little Grey," said the doctor. "By jingo, I'd about forgotten her."
"No wonder, sir, when you have been drinking with her father to such an extent."
"Fine thing in this climate, my dear," said the doctor. "Where's Arthur?"
"Tired of all this frivolity, I suppose, and gone home like a sensible man. He does not drink whiskey."
"Oh, dear," said the doctor, "I'll never take another drop if you talk to me like this, but poison myself with liquor-ammoniae instead."
"Liquor what, sir?"
"Ammonias, my dear, sal-volatile as you call it when you require a stimulus. Well, Grey, my child, we are to take you home."
"So soon, Dr Bolter?" said the Inche Maida, by whose side Grey was seated.
"I think it quite late enough, Princess," said Mrs Bolter, austerely.
"Have you seen my brother?"
"Yes, I saw him following Miss Perowne down the walk," said the Princess, quietly enjoying Mrs Bolter's start. "I suppose it is pleasanter and cooler in the dark parts of the garden."
"My brother is fond of meditation," said Mrs Bolter, quietly; and she looked very fixedly in the Princess's eyes.
"Yes, I suppose so; and night is so pleasant a time for thought,"
retorted the Princess. "You must come with your brother and the doctor, and stay with me, Mrs Bolter."
"Thank you, madam," replied the little lady. "Never, if I know it," she said to herself.
"I suppose it is late to English views?" said the Princess, smiling.
"Good-bye, then, dear Miss Stuart. I will try and persuade papa to bring you to stay with me in my savage home. You really would come if he consented?"
"Indeed I should like it," said Grey, quickly, as she looked frankly in the Princess's handsome face, the latter kissing her affectionately at parting.
"Now we must say good-night to Perowne and our hostess," said the doctor, merrily. "Come along, my dear, and we'll soon be home. But I say, where are these people?"
Neither Helen nor Mr Perowne was visible; and the replies they received to inquiries were of the most contradictory character.
"There, do let us go, Dr Bolter," exclaimed the lady, with great asperity now. "No one will miss us; but if the Perownes do, we can apologise to-morrow or next day, when we see them."
"But I should have liked to say good-night," said the doctor. "Let's have one more look. I daresay Helen is down here."
"I daresay Captain Hilton knows where she is," said Mrs Doctor, sharply, and Grey gave quite a start.
"But I can't find Hilton, and I haven't seen Chumbley lately."
"Perhaps they have been sensible enough to go home to bed," said Mrs Doctor, after she had been dragged up and down several walks.
"Almost seems as if everybody had gone home to bed," said the doctor, rubbing his ear in a vexed manner. "Surely Perowne and Helen would not have gone to bed before the guests had left."
"Well, I'm going to take Grey Stuart home, Doctor," said the lady, decisively. "You can do as you like, but if the hostess cannot condescend to give up her own pleasure for her guests', I don't see why we should study her."