Part 42 (1/2)
Olcott raised his gla.s.s.
”Here's to you, old friend, and may you get with full measure, as you give! I can't wish you anything better.” He put down his gla.s.s and continued: ”And now we'll proceed to business. As soon as I'd had a talk with Clare I paid a check into your bank.”
”Sure it's convenient?”
”Quite: I had my duties increased and, what was much less usual, a corresponding increase of pay. I'd rather have come over when you were alone, and I only got home yesterday, but Clare insisted on my appearing to-night. Can you guess the reason?”
”Yes.” Andrew flushed but looked at his friend with steady eyes. ”I got very savage about the matter, and wondered whether I'd been in any way to blame. Still, you left things pretty mixed when you went away--your wife needed somebody to straighten them out, and I'm not a tactful person.”
”I'd only a day or two's notice, and there wasn't time to arrange matters properly. But it's hard to imagine that people who knew you could be such credulous fools. I mustn't say anything stronger of your relatives.”
”I don't think being my relatives makes them any brighter,” Andrew replied with a grin. ”My father was the last genius in the family; talent often skips a generation. But we'll let the matter drop.”
”If you find grat.i.tude hard to put up with. It seems that your sister Hilda has told Clare something about your adventures. You had some rough experiences in Canada?”
”One or two. I shouldn't imagine they were uncommon in West Africa.”
”You're right,” returned Olcott grimly. ”We must have a long talk; but here's the clergyman coming in search of you and he looks as if he had something important to say.”
He withdrew and Robert Allinson sat down with a confused but resolute air.
”Andrew,” he said, ”I have come to express my regret at having wronged you by suspicions which I am now ashamed of.”
”After all, perhaps you had some excuse. I wasn't as careful as I should have been; but I'm getting tired of the subject.”
”It's painful, but I must go on. I knew what a mistake I had made as soon as I saw Olcott come in; but you don't understand yet how far my suspicions led me. I felt it my duty to see Judson about Mrs. Olcott's lease.”
”Ah! You mean you put the screw on him? I'm glad your plot seems to have failed.”
”So am I,” said Robert. ”I'll confess that I was disappointed at first and suspected Wannop of interfering. As you know, he's lax in his views.”
”It's unfortunate the laxity you complain of isn't more common.”
Andrew broke into a smile. ”No doubt Wannop was too clever for you; but I don't bear you any grudge. I believe you meant well, and good intentions seem to excuse a good deal of harshness.”
”I did what I thought was my duty,” Robert said with dignity, and moved away.
Shortly afterward Andrew entered the drawing-room, where he was surprised to see Robert talking to Mrs. Olcott. The clergyman looked unusually solemn and Mrs. Olcott's expression was resigned. Hilda, joining her brother, glanced toward the other two.
”Isn't he amusing?” she said with a soft laugh. ”He's doing penance and feeling as awkward as he deserves. No doubt Mrs. Olcott feels horribly bored.”
”What do you know about the matter?” Andrew asked sharply.
”More than you think. Robert believes he's making full amends by countenancing Mrs. Olcott as he's doing. After this, of course, n.o.body need fight shy of her.”
Andrew knew that reproof would be useless; Hilda would laugh at him.
”Well,” he said, ”I've a higher opinion of Robert now than I've had for some time.”
”He's pompous and silly,” Hilda declared. ”Sometimes I feel sorry for him, sometimes he makes me positively wicked; but after all he has his good points. For one thing, he's not afraid.”