Read Cursed by a Fortune Page 9


  CHAPTER NINE.

  "Hello, Harry!" said Claud, breaking up what is generally known as anawkward pause, for the fresh arrival had been received in frigidsilence.

  "Ah, Harry, my boy," said Garstang, with a pleasant smile, "I halfexpected to find you here."

  "Did you?" said the young man, making an effort to be at his ease."Rather a rough morning for a walk--roads so bad. I've run down for afew hours to see how Kate Wilton was. Thought you'd give me a bit oflunch."

  "Of course, my dear," said Mrs Wilton, stiffly, and glancing at herhusband afterwards as if to say, "Wasn't that right?"

  "One knife and fork more or less doesn't make much difference at mytable," said Wilton, sourly.

  "And he does look pretty hungry," said Claud with a grin.

  "Glad to see you looking better, Kate," continued the young man, holdingout his hand to take that which was released from his step-father's forthe moment.

  "Thank you, yes," said Kate, quietly; "I am better."

  "Well, we must not keep the lunch waiting," said Garstang. "Won't youtake in your aunt, Harry? And, by the way, I must ask you to get backto-night so as to be at the office in good time in the morning, for I'mafraid my business will keep me here for some days."

  "Oh, yes, I'll be there," replied the young man, with a meaning look atGarstang; and then offering his arm to Mrs Wilton, they filed off intothe dining-room, to partake of a luncheon which would have been eatenalmost in silence but for Garstang. He cleverly kept the ball rollingwith his easy, fluent conversation, seeming as he did to be a master ofthe art of drawing everyone out in turn on his or her particularsubject, and as if entirely for the benefit of the convalescent, to whomhe made constant appeals for her judgment.

  The result was that to her own surprise the girl grew more animated, andmore than once found herself looking gratefully in the eyes of thecourtly man of the world, who spoke as if quite at home on every topiche started, whether it was in a discussion with the hostess on cookeryand preserves, with Wilton on farming and the treatment of cattle, orwith the young men on hunting, shooting, fishing and the drama.

  And it was all so pleasantly done that a load seemed to be lifted fromthe sufferer's breast, and she found herself contrasting what her lifewas with what it might have been had Garstang been left her guardian,and half wondered why her father, who had been one of the most refinedand scrupulous of men, should have chosen her Uncle James instead of thepolished courtly relative who set her so completely at her ease andlistened with such paternal deference to her words.

  "Wish I could draw her out like he does," thought Claud.--"These oldfogies! they always seem to know what to say to make a wench grin."

  "He'll watch me like a cat does a mouse," said Harry to himself, "butI'll have a turn at her somehow."

  James Wilton said little, and looked glum, principally from the pressureof money on the brain; but Mrs Wilton said a great deal, much more thanshe should have said, some of her speeches being particularlyunfortunate, and those which followed only making matters worse. ButGarstang always came to her help when Wilton's brow was clouding over;and the lady sighed to herself when the meal was at an end.

  "If Harry don't come with us I shall stop in," said Claud to himself;and then aloud, "Close upon two. You'd like a turn with us, Harry,fishing or shooting?"

  "I? No. I'm tired with my walk, and I've got to do it again thisevening."

  "No, you haven't," said Claud, sulkily; "you know you'll be drivenback."

  "Oh, yes," said Garstang; "your uncle will not let you walk. Bettercome, Harry."

  "Thanks, no, sir; I'll stop and talk to Aunt and Kate, here."

  "No, my dear; we must not tire Kate out, she'll have to go and lie downthis afternoon."

  "Oh, very well then, Aunt; I'll stop and talk to you and Uncle."

  "Then you'll have to come round the farms with me if you do," growledWilton.

  "Thanks, no; I've walked enough through the mud for one day."

  "Let him have his own way, Claud, my lad," cried Garstang. "We must beoff. See you down to dinner, I hope, Kate, my child?"

  She smiled at him.

  "Yes, I hope to be well enough to come down," she replied.

  "That's right; and we'll see what we can get to boast about when we comeback. Come along, boy."

  Claud was ready to hesitate, but he could not back out, and he followedGarstang, the young men's eyes meeting in a defiant gaze.

  But he turned as he reached the door.

  "Didn't say good-bye to you, Mamma. All right," he cried, kissing herboisterously. "I won't let them shoot me, and I'll mind and not tumbleout of the boat. I say," he whispered, "don't let him get Kate alone."

  "Oh, that's your game, is it?" said Harry to himself; "treats it withcontempt. All right, proud step-father; you haven't all the brains inthe world."

  He followed the gentlemen into the hall, and then stood at the door tosee them off, hearing Garstang say familiarly: "Let's show them what wecan do, Harry, my lad. It's just the day for the pike. Here, try oneof these; they tell me they are rather choice."

  "Oh, I shall light my pipe," said the young man sulkily.

  "Wise man, as a rule; but try one of these first, and if you don't likeit you can throw it away."

  Claud lit the proffered cigar rather sulkily, and they went off; whileHarry, after seeing Wilton go round to the stables, went back into thehall, and was about to enter the drawing-room, but a glance down at hismuddy boots made him hesitate.

  He could hear the voice of Mrs Wilton as she talked loudly to herniece, and twice over he raised his hand to the door knob, but each timelowered it; and going back into the dining-room, he rang the bell.

  "Can I have my boots brushed?" he said to the footman.

  "Yes, sir, I'll bring you a pair of slippers."

  "Oh, no, I'll come to the pantry and put my feet up on a chair."

  The man did not look pleased at this, but he led the way to his place,fetched the blacking and brushes, and as he manipulated them heunderwent a kind of cross-examination about the household affairs,answering the first question rather shortly, the rest with a fair amountof eagerness. For the visitor's hand had stolen into his pocket andcome out again with half-a-crown, which he used to rasp the back of theold Windsor chair on which he rested his foot, and then, balancing it onone finger, he tapped it softly, making it give forth a pleasantjingling sound that was very grateful to the man's ear, for he brushedaway most diligently, blacked, polished, breathed on the leather, andbrushed again.

  "Keep as good hours as ever?" said Dasent, after several questions hadbeen put.

  "Oh, yes, sir. Prayers at ha'-past nine, and if there's a light goinganywhere with us after ten the governor's sure to see it and make a row.He's dreadful early, night and morning, too."

  "Yes, he is very early of a morning, I noticed. Well, it makes the dayslonger."

  "Well, sir, it do; but one has to be up pretty sharp to get his bootsdone and his hot water into his room by seven, for if it's five minutespast he's there before you, waiting, and looking as black as thunder.My predecessor got the sack, they say, for being quarter of an hour latetwo or three times, and it isn't easy to be ready in weather like this."

  "What, dark in the mornings?"

  "Oh, no, sir, I don't mean that. It's his boots. He gets them thatclogged and soaked that I have to wash 'em overnight and put 'em to thekitchen fire, and if that goes out too soon it's an awful job to get 'emto shine. They don't have a hot pair of feet in 'em like these, sir.Your portmanteau coming on by the carrier?"

  "Oh, no, I go back to-night. And that reminds me--have they got a gooddog-cart in the village?"

  "Dog-cart, sir?" said the man, with a laugh; "not here. The baker's gota donkey-cart, and there's plenty of farmers' carts. That's all thereis near."

  "I thought so, but I've been here so little lately."

  "But you needn't mind about that, sir. Master's sure to order our trapto be round to t
ake you to the station, and Tom Johnson'll be gladenough to drive you."

  "Oh, yes; of course; but I like to be independent. I daresay I shallwalk back."

  "I wouldn't, sir, begging your pardon, for it's an awkward road in thedark. Tell you what, though, sir, if you did, there's the man atBarber's Corner, at the little pub, two miles on the road. He has avery good pony and trap. He does a bit of chicken higgling round thecountry. You mention my name, sir, and he'd be glad enough to drive youfor a florin or half-a-crown."

  "Ah, well, we shall see," said Dasent, putting down his second leg."Look a deal better for the touch-up. Get yourself a glass."

  "Thankye, sir. Much obliged, sir. But beg your pardon, sir, I'll justgive Tom Johnson a 'int and he'll have the horse ready in the dog-carttime enough for you. He'll suppose it'll be wanted. It'll be allright, sir. I wouldn't go tramping it on a dark night, sir, and it'sonly doing the horse good. They pretty well eat their heads off heresometimes."

  "No, no, certainly not," said Dasent. "Thank you, though, er--Samuel,all the same."

  "Thank you, sir," said the man, and the donor of half-a-crown went backthrough the swing baize-covered door, and crossed the hall.

  "Needn't ha' been so proud; but p'raps he ain't got another half-crown.Lor', what a gent will do sooner than be under an obligation!"

  Even that half-crown seemed to have been thrown away, for upon the giverentering the drawing-room it was to find it empty, and after a littlehesitation he returned to the hall, where he was just in time toencounter the footman with a wooden tray, on his way to clear away thelunch things.

  "Is your mistress going out?" he said. "There is no one in thedrawing-room."

  "Gone upstairs to have her afternoon nap, sir," said the man, in a lowtone. "I suppose Miss Wilton's gone up to her room, too?"

  Dasent nodded, took his hat, and went out, lit a cigar, and beganwalking up and down, apparently admiring the front of the old, long,low, red-brick house, with its many windows and two wings covered withwistaria and roses. One window--that at the end of the west wing--tookhis attention greatly, and he looked up at it a good deal before slowlymaking his way round to the garden, where he displayed a great deal ofinterest in the vineries and the walls, where a couple of men were busywith their ladders, nailing.

  Here he stood watching them for some minutes--the deft way in which theyused shreds and nails to rearrange the thin bearing shoots of peach andplum.

  After this he passed through an arched doorway in the wall, and smokedin front of the trained pear-trees, before going on to the yard wherethe tool shed stood, and the ladders used for gathering the apples inthe orchard hung beneath the eaves of the long, low mushroom house.

  Twice over he went back to the hall, but the drawing-room stood open,and the place was wonderfully quiet and still.

  "Anyone would think he was master here," said one of the men, as he sawDasent pass by the third time. "Won't be much he don't know about theplace when he's done."

  "Shouldn't wonder if he is," said the other. "Him and his father'slawyers, and the guv'nor don't seem none too chirpy just now. They sayhe is in Queer Street."

  "Who's they?" said his companion, speaking indistinctly, consequent uponhaving two nails and a shred between his lips.

  "Why, they. I dunno, but it's about that they've been a bit awkwardwith the guv'nor at Bramwich Bank."

  "That's nothing. Life's all ups and downs. It won't hurt us. We shallget our wages, I dessay. They're always paid."

  The afternoon wore on and at dusk Garstang and Claud made theirappearance, followed by a labourer carrying a basket, which was tooshort to hold the head and tail of a twelve-pound pike, which lay on thetop of half-a-dozen more.

  "Better have come with us, Harry," said Claud. "Had some pretty goodsport. Found it dull?"

  "I? No," was the reply. "I say, what time do you dine to-night?"

  "Old hour--six."

  "Going to stay dinner, Harry?" said Garstang.

  "Oh, yes; I'm going to stay dinner," said the young man, giving him adefiant look.

  "Well, it will be pleasanter, but it is a very dark ride."

  "Yes, but I'm going to walk."

  "No, you aren't," said Claud, in a sulky tone of voice; "we're going tohave you driven over."

  "There is no need."

  "Oh, yes, there is. I want a ride to have a cigar after dinner, and Ishall come and see you off. We don't do things like that, even if wehaven't asked anyone to come."

  Kate made her appearance again at dinner, and once more Garstang was thelife and soul of the party, which would otherwise have been full ofconstraint. But it was not done in a boisterous, ostentatious way.Everything was in good taste, and Kate more than once grew quiteanimated, till she saw that both the young men were eagerly listening toher, when she withdrew into herself.

  Mrs Wilton got through the dinner without once making her lord frown,and she was congratulating herself upon her success, as she rose, aftermaking a sign, when her final words evolved a tempestuous flash of hiseyes.

  "Don't you think you had better stop till the morning, Harry Dasent?"she said.

  But his quick reply allayed the storm at once.

  "Oh, no, thank you, Aunt," he said, with a side glance at Garstang. "Imust be back to look after business in the morning."

  "But it's so dark, my dear."

  "Bah! the dark won't hurt him, Maria, and I've told them to bring thedog-cart round at eight."

  "Oh, that's very good of you, sir," said the young man; "but I had madeup my mind to walk."

  "I told you I should ride over with you, didn't I?" growled Claud.

  "Yes, but--"

  "I know. There, hold your row. We needn't start till half-past eight,so there'll be plenty of time for coffee and a cigar."

  "Then I had better say good-night to you now, Mr Dasent," said Kate,quietly, holding out her hand.

  "Oh, I shall see you again," he cried.

  "No; I am about to ask Aunt to let me go up to my room now; it has beena tiring day."

  "Then good-night," he said impressively, and he took and pressed herhand in a way which made her colour slightly, and Claud twitch one armand double his list under the table.

  "Good-night. Good-night, Claud." She shook hands; then crossed to heruncle.

  "Good-night, my dear," he said, drawing her down to kiss her cheek."Glad you are so much better."

  "Thank you, Uncle.--Good-night, Mr Garstang." Her lip was quivering alittle, but she smiled at him gratefully as he rose and spoke in a lowaffectionate way.

  "Good-night, my dear child," he said. "Let me play doctor with a bit ofgood advice. Make up your mind for a long night's rest, and ask youruncle and aunt to excuse you at breakfast in the morning. You musthasten slowly to get back your strength. Good-night."

  "You'll have to take great care of her, James," he continued, as hereturned to his seat. "Umph! Yes, I mean to," said the host. "A very,very sweet girt," said Garstang thoughtfully, and his face was perfectlycalm as he met his stepson's shifty glance.

  Then coffee was brought in; Claud, at a hint from his lather, fetched acigar box, and was drawn out by Garstang during the smoking to give alull account of their sport that afternoon with the pike.

  "Quite bent the gaff hook," he was saying later on, when the grating ofwheels was heard; and soon after the young men started, Mrs Wiltoncoming into the hall to see them off and advise them both to wrap upwell about their chests.

  That night John Garstang broke his host's rules by keeping his candleburning late, while he sat thinking deeply by the bedroom fire; for hehad a good deal upon his brain just then. "No," he said at last, as herose to wind up his watch; "she would not dare. But fore-warned isfore-armed, my man. You were never meant for a diplomat. Bah! Nor foranything else."

  But it was a long time that night before John Garstang slept.