Part 14 (1/2)

”Well, I should not have been there, in any case,” said Rendel. ”That is where I should have been--look,” with something like a sigh.

”You would have been nearer than you are now,” said Wentworth. ”Upon my word, I haven't patience with you. The idea of throwing up such a chance as you have had!”

”How do you know about it?” Rendel said.

”How do I know?” said Wentworth. ”Everybody knows that you were offered it and refused.”

”After all,” said Rendel, ”there are some things one leaves undone in this world. It does not follow that because people are offered a thing they must necessarily accept it.”

”I don't say I am not in favour of leaving things undone,” Wentworth said, ”on occasion.”

”So I have observed,” said Rendel.

”But really, you know,” Wentworth went on, ”this is too much. What do you intend to do?”

”What do I intend to do?” Rendel said, with a half smile, then unconsciously imparting a greater steadfastness into his expression, ”broadly speaking, I intend to do--everything.”

”Oh! well, there's hope for you still,” Wentworth said, ”if that is your intention. It's rather a large order, though.”

”Well, as I have told you before,” Rendel said, ”I don't see why there should be any limit to one's intentions. The man who intends little is not likely to achieve much.”

”That's all very well, and plausible enough, I dare say,” said Wentworth, ”but the way to achieve is not to begin by refusing all your chances.”

”This is too delightful from you,” said Rendel, ”who never do anything at all.”

”Not at all,” said Wentworth. ”It is on principle that I do nothing, in order to protest against other people doing too much. I wish to have an eight hours' day of elegant leisure, and to go about the world as an example of it. It would be just as inconsistent of me to accept a regular occupation as it is of you to refuse it.”

”I have a very simple reason for refusing this,” said Rendel more seriously, and he paused. ”I am a married man.”

”To be sure, my dear fellow,” said Wentworth, ”I have noticed it.”

”My wife didn't want to go to Africa,” said Rendel, ”and there was an end of it.”

”Oh, that was the end of it?” said Wentworth.

”Absolutely,” said Rendel. ”She did not want to leave her father.”

”Ah, is that it?” said Wentworth, feeling that he could not decently advance an urgent plea against Sir William. ”Poor old man! I know he's gone to pieces frightfully since his wife died--still, couldn't some one have been found to take care of him?”

”Hardly any one like Rachel,” Rendel said.

”Naturally,” said Wentworth.

”You know he is living with us?” Rendel said.

”Is he?” said Wentworth surprised. ”Upon my word, Frank, you are a good son-in-law.”

Rendel ignored the tone of Wentworth's last remark and said quite simply--

”Oh! well, there was nothing else to be done. He's been ill, you know, really rather bad; first he had a chill, and then influenza on the top of it. He's frightfully low altogether.”