George Fenn - Cursed by a Fortune

“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. “I must 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 the dog-cart round at eight.”

“Oh, that’s very good of you, sir,” said the young man; “but I had made up 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 been a tiring day.”

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

“Good-night. Good-night, Claud.” She shook hands; then crossed to her uncle.

“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 a little, but she smiled at him gratefully as he rose and spoke in a low affectionate way.

“Good-night, my dear child,” he said. “Let me play doctor with a bit of good advice. Make up your mind for a long night’s rest, and ask your uncle and aunt to excuse you at breakfast in the morning. You must hasten slowly to get back your strength. Good-night.”

“You’ll have to take great care of her, James,” he continued, as he returned to his seat. “Umph! Yes, I mean to,” said the host. “A very, very sweet girt,” said Garstang thoughtfully, and his face was perfectly calm as he met his stepson’s shifty glance.

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

“Quite bent the gaff hook,” he was saying later on, when the grating of wheels was heard; and soon after the young men started, Mrs Wilton coming into the hall to see them off and advise them both to wrap up well about their chests.

That night John Garstang broke his host’s rules by keeping his candle burning late, while he sat thinking deeply by the bedroom fire; for he had a good deal upon his brain just then. “No,” he said at last, as he rose to wind up his watch; “she would not dare. But fore-warned is fore-armed, my man. You were never meant for a diplomat. Bah! Nor for anything else.”

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

“I say, guv’nor, when’s old Garstang going?”

“Oh, very soon, now, boy,” said James Wilton testily.

“But you said that a week ago, and he seems to be settling down as if the place belonged to him.”

The father uttered a deep, long-drawn sigh.

“It’s no use for you to snort, dad; that doesn’t do any good. Why don’t you tell him to be off?”

“No, no; impossible; and mind what you are about; be civil to him.”

“Well, I am. Can’t help it; he’s so jolly smooth with a fellow, and has such good cigars – I say, guv’nor, rather different to your seventeen-and-six-penny boxes of weeds. I wouldn’t mind, only he’s in the way so. Puts a stop to, you know what. I never get a chance with her alone; here are you two shut up all the morning over the parchments, and she don’t come down; and when she does he carries me off with him. Then at night you’re all there.”

“Never mind! he will soon go now; we have nearly done.”

“I’m jolly glad of it. I’ve been thinking that if it’s going on much longer I’d better do without the four greys.”

“Eh?”

“Oh, you know, guv’nor; toddle off to Gretna Green, or wherever they do the business, and get it over.”

“No, no, no, no. There must be no nonsense, my boy,” said Wilton, uneasily. “Don’t do anything rash.”

“Oh, no, I won’t do anything rash,” said Claud, with an unpleasant grin; “only one must make one’s hay when the sun shines, guv’nor.”

“There’s one thing about his visit,” said Wilton hurriedly; “it has done her a great deal of good; she isn’t like the same girl.”

“No; she has come out jolly. Makes it a little more bearable.”

“Eh, what, sir? – bearable?”

“Yes. Fellow wants the prospect of some sugar or jam afterwards, to take such a sickly dose as she promised to be.”

“Oh, nonsense, nonsense. But – er – mind what you’re about; nothing rash.”

“I’ve got my head screwed on right, guv’nor. I can manage a girl. I say, though, she has quite taken to old Garstang; he has got such a way with him. He can be wonderfully jolly when he likes.”

“Yes, wonderfully,” said Wilton, with a groan.

“You’ve no idea how he can go when we’re out. He’s full of capital stories, and as larky when we’re fishing or shooting as if he were only as old as I am. Ever seen him jump?”

“What, run and jump?”

“Yah! When he is mounted. He rides splendidly. Took Brown Charley over hedge after hedge yesterday like a bird. Understands a horse as well as I do. I like him, and we get on swimming together; but we don’t want him here now.”

“Well, well, it won’t be long before he has gone,” said Wilton, hurrying some papers away over which he and Garstang had been busy all the morning. “Where are you going this afternoon?”

“Ride. He wants to see the Cross Green farm.”

“Eh?” said Wilton, looking up sharply, and with an anxious gleam in his eyes. “Did he say that?”

“Yes; and we’re off directly after lunch. I say, though, what was that letter about?”

“What letter?” said Wilton, starting nervously.

“Oh, I say; don’t jump as if you thought the bailiffs were coming in. I meant the one brought over from the station half-an-hour ago.”

“I had no letter.”

“Sam said one came. It must have been for old Garstang then.”

“Am I intruding? Business?” said Garstang, suddenly appearing at the door.

“Eh? No; come in. We were only talking about ordinary things. Sit down. Lunch must be nearly due. Want to speak to me?”

All this in a nervous, hurried way.

“Never mind lunch,” said Garstang quietly; “I want you to oblige me, my dear James, by ordering that brown horse round.”

Wilton uttered a sigh of relief, and his face, which had been turning ghastly, slowly resumed its natural tint.

“But I understood from Claud here that you were both going out after lunch.”

“I’ve had a particular letter sent down in a packet, and I must ride over and telegraph back at some length.”

“We’ll send Tom over for you,” said Claud; and then he felt as if he would have given anything to withdraw the words.

“It’s very good of you,” said Garstang, smiling pleasantly, “but the business is important. Oblige me by ordering the horse at once.”

“Oh, I’ll run round. Have Brown Charley here in five minutes.”

“Thank you, Claud; and perhaps you’ll give me a glass of sherry and a biscuit, James?”

“Yes, yes, of course; but you’ll be back to dinner?”

“Of course. We must finish what we are about.”

“Yes, we must finish what we are about,” said Wilton, with a dismal look; and he rang the bell, just as Claud passed the window on the way to the stables.