George Fenn - Cursed by a Fortune

A quarter of an hour later Garstang was cantering down the avenue, just as the lunch-bell was ringing; and Claud winked at his father as they crossed to the drawing-room, where his mother and Kate were seated, and chuckled to himself as he thought of the long afternoon he meant to have.

“Oh, I say, guv’nor, it’s my turn now,” he cried, as Wilton crossed smiling to his niece, and offered her his arm.

“All in good time, my boy; all in good time. You bring in your mother. I don’t see why I’m always to be left in the background. Come along, Kate, my dear; you must have me to-day.”

“Why, where is John Garstang?” cried Mrs Wilton.

“Off on the horse, mother,” said Claud, with a grin. “Gone over to the station to wire.”

“Gone without saying good-bye?”

“Oh, he’s coming back again, mother; but we can do without him for once in the way. I say, Kate, I want you to give me this afternoon for that lesson in riding.”

“Riding, my dear?”

“Yes, mother, riding. I’m going to give Kitty some lessons on the little mare.”

“No, no; not this afternoon,” said the girl nervously, as they entered the dining-room.

“Yes, this afternoon. You’ve got to make the plunge, and the sooner you do it the better.”

“Thank you; you’re very good, but I was going to read to aunt.”

“Oh, never mind me, my dear; you go with Claud. It’s going to be a lovely afternoon.”

“I should prefer not to begin yet,” said Kate, decisively.

“Get out,” cried Claud. “What a girl you are. You’ll come.”

“I’m sure Claud will take the greatest care of you, my darling.”

“Yes, aunt, I am sure he would; but the lessons must wait for a while.”

“All right, Kitty. Come for a drive, then. I’ll take you a good round.”

“I should prefer to stay at home this afternoon, Claud.”

“Very well, then, we’ll go on the big pond, and I’ll teach you how to troll.”

She turned to speak to her uncle, to conceal her annoyance, but Claud persevered.

“You will come, won’t you?” he said.

“Don’t worry your cousin, Claud, my dear, if she would rather not,” said Mrs Wilton.

“Who’s worrying her?” said Claud, testily. “I say, Kate, say you’ll come.”

“I would rather not to-day,” she said, quietly.

“There now, you’re beginning to mope again, and I mean to stop it. I tell you what; we’ll have out the guns, and I’ll take you along by the fir plantation.”

“No, no, my boy,” said Wilton, interposing. “Kate isn’t a boy.”

“Who said she was?” said the young man, gruffly. “Can’t a woman pull a trigger if she likes?”

“I daresay she could, my dear,” said Mrs Wilton; “but I’m sure I shouldn’t like to. I’ve often heard your papa say how badly guns kicked.”

“So do donkeys, mother,” said Claud, sulkily; “but I shouldn’t put her on one that did. You’ll come, won’t you, dear?”

“No, Claud,” said Kate, very quietly and firmly. “I could not find any pleasure in trying to destroy the life of a beautiful bird.”

“Ha, ha! I say, we are nice. Don’t you eat any pheasant at dinner, then. There’s a brace for to-night. Old Garstang shot ’em – a cruel wretch.”

Kate looked at him indignantly, and then began conversing with her uncle, while her cousin relapsed into sulky silence, and began to eat as if he were preparing for a famine to come, his mother shaking her head at him reproachfully every time she caught his eye.

The lunch at an end, Kate took her uncle’s arm and went out into the veranda with him for a few minutes as the sun was shining, and as soon as they were out of hearing Claud turned fiercely upon his mother.

“What were you shaking your head at me like that for?” he cried. “You looked like some jolly old Chinese figure.”

“For shame, my dear. Don’t talk to me like that, or I shall be very, very cross with you. And look here, Claud, you mustn’t be rough with your cousin. Girls don’t like it.”

“Oh, don’t they? Deal you know about it.”

“And there’s another thing I want to say to you. If you want to win her you must not be so attentive to that Miss Leigh.”

“Who’s attentive to Miss Leigh?” said the young man, savagely.

“You are, my dear; you quite flirted with her when she was here with her brother last night, and I heard from one of the servants that you were seen talking to her in Lower Lane on Monday.”

“Then it was a lie,” he cried, sharply. “Tell ’em to mind their own business. Now, look here, mother, you want me to marry Katey, don’t you?”

“Of course, my dear.”

“Then you keep your tongue still and your eyes shut. The guv’nor ’ll be off directly, and you’ll be taking her into the drawing-room.”

“Yes, my dear.”

“Well, I’m not going out; I’m going to have it over with her this afternoon, so you slip off and leave me to my chance while there is one. I’m tired of waiting for old Garstang to be out of the way.”

“But I don’t think I ought to, my dear.”

“Then I do. Look here, she knows what’s coming, and that’s why she wouldn’t come out with me, you know. It’s all gammon, to lead me on. She means it. You know what girls are. I mean to strike while the iron’s hot.”

“But suppose – ”

“I shan’t suppose anything of the kind. She only pretends. We understand one another with our eyes. I know what girls are; and you give me my chance this afternoon, and she’s mine. She’s only holding off a bit, I tell you.”

“Perhaps you are right, my dear; but don’t hurt her feelings by being too premature.”

“Too gammon! You do what I say, and soon. I don’t want old Garstang back before we’ve got it all over. Keep dark; here they come.”

Kate entered with her uncle as soon as he had spoken, and Claud attacked her directly.

“Altered your mind?” he said.

“No, Claud; you must excuse me, please,” was the reply.

“All right. Off, father?”

“Yes, my boy. In about half an hour or so; I have two or three letters to write.”

“Two or three letters to write!” muttered the young man, as he went out into the veranda, to light his pipe, and keep on the watch for the coveted opportunity; “haven’t you any brains in your head?”

But James Wilton’s half-hour proved to be an hour, and when, after seeing him off, the son returned to the hall, he heard voices in the drawing-room, and gave a vicious snarl.

“Why the devil don’t she go?” he muttered.

There were steps the next moment, and he drew back into the dining-room to listen, the conversation telling him that his mother and cousin were going into the library to get some particular book.

There, to the young man’s great disgust, they stayed, and he waited for quite half an hour trying to control his temper, and devise some plan for trying to get his mother away.

At last she appeared, saying loudly as she looked back, “I shall be back directly, my dear,” and closed the door.

Claud appeared at once, and with a meaning smile at his mother, she crossed to the stairs, while as she ascended to her room the son went straight to the library and entered.

As he threw open the door he found himself face to face with his cousin, who, book in hand, was coming out of the room.

“Hallo!” he cried, with a peculiar laugh; “Where’s the old lady?”

“She has just gone to her room, Claud,” said Kate, quietly.

“Here, don’t be in such a hurry, little one,” he cried, pushing to the door. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said, quietly, though her heart was throbbing heavily; “I was going to take my book into the drawing-room.”