New York had never been so nasty and cold and disagreeable. Forthree weeks it had rained--a steady, chilling drizzle. Quentin stoodit as long as he could, but the weather is a large factor in thelife of a gentleman of leisure. He couldn't play Squash the entiretime, and Bridge he always maintained was more of a profession thana pastime. So it was that one morning, as he looked out at thesheets of water blowing across the city, his mind was made up.
"We'll get out of this, Turk. I've had enough of it."
"Where do we go, sir?" calmly asked the servant.
"Heaven knows! But be ready to start tomorrow. We'll go somewhereand dodge this blessed downpour. Call me a cab."
As he drove to the club, he mentally tossed coppers as to hisdestination. People were already coming back from Aiken and PalmBeach, and those who had gone to the country were cooped up indoorsand shivering about the fireplaces. Where could he go? As heentered the club a man hailed him from the front room.
"Quentin, you're just the man I'm looking for. Come in here."
It was the Earl of Saxondale--familiarly "Lord Bob"--an old chum ofQuentin's. "My missus sent me with an invitation for you, and I'vecome for your acceptance," said the Englishman, when Quentin hadjoined him.
"Come home with us. We're sailing on the Lucania to-morrow, andthere are going to be some doings in England this month which youmustn't miss. Dickey Savage is coming, and we want you."
Quentin looked at him and laughed. Saxondale was perfectly serious."We're going to have some people up for Goodwood, and later we shallhave a house-boat for Henley. So you'd better come. It won't be badsport."
Quentin started to thank his friend and decline. Then he rememberedthat he wanted to get away--there was absolutely nothing to keep himat home, and, besides, he liked Lord Bob and his American wife.
Fashionable New York recalls the marriage of the Earl of Saxondaleand Frances Thornow when the '90's were young, and everybody said itwas a love match. To be sure, she was wealthy, but so was he. Shehad declined offers of a half-dozen other noblemen; therefore it wasnot ambition on her part. He could have married any number ofwealthier American girls; therefore it was not avarice on his part.He was a good-looking, stalwart chap with a very fetching drawl,infinite gentility, and a man despite his monocle, while she wasbeautiful, witty and womanly; therefore it is reasonable to suspectthat it must have been love that made her Lady Saxondale.
Lord Bob and Lady Frances were frequent visitors to New York. Heliked New York, and New Yorkers liked him. His wife was enough of atrue American to love the home of her forefathers. "What my wifelikes I seem to have a fondness for," said he, complacently. He onceremarked that were she to fall in love with another man he wouldfeel in duty bound to like him.
Saxondale had money invested in American copper mines, and his wifehad railroad stocks. When they came to New York, once or twice ayear, they took a furnished apartment, entertained and wereentertained for a month or so, rushed their luggage back to thesteamer and sailed for home, perfectly satisfied with themselvesand--the markets.
Quentin looked upon Lord Bob's invitation as a sporting proposition.This would not be the first time he had taken a steamer ontwenty-four hours' notice. The one question was accommodation, and along acquaintance with the agent helped him to get passage whereothers would have failed.
So it happened that the next morning Turk was unpacking things inMr. Quentin's cabin and establishing relations with the bathsteward.