Part 28 (1/2)
He shook his head.
”He has never spoken about it for a long while. I'm practically positive he has forgotten.”
”But do you not need him at the office?” asked Mrs. Donaldson.
”_Need_ him!”
”I can only tell you,” she replied, ”that Hector says he gets through business in a most surprising way, for all his eccentricity.”
”Very surprising,” he retorted sarcastically.
”Oh,” she said airily, ”I know you fancy yourself, but Hector declares father is the man for his money nowadays.”
Andrew's cheeks drooped gloomily. He had heard hints of this preposterous opinion once or twice lately, and they disgusted his sense of fitness. How could a man possibly be good at business if he rushed through it like a steam-engine? Supposing one of the telegraph posts at the side wanted a touch of tar, how could you notice it going at that pace! But what was the use in arguing with a woman?
”Well, I can only tell you this,” he snapped: ”there's Madge Dunbar waiting for him here with her mouth open.”
The two sisters immediately relinquished all idea of bringing him home.
”But if we let him stay in London, he'll be bankrupt in a month!” cried Andrew desperately.
”What the deuce is to be done?”
They pondered for a few minutes in silence, and then Mrs. Ramornie exclaimed, with an inspired air--
”He must go abroad!”
”And how are you going to manage that?” inquired Andrew.
”You've got to go and take him.”
”Me!” he cried. ”But--but, dash it, Maggie, he'll never go with _me_.”
”You will have to dissemble a little, of course; pretend you want a holiday too, and take him to--to, well, we must look up some inexpensive French watering-place.”
Gertrude smiled her approval.
”That's the idea, Andrew! Go up in a white felt hat, and tell him you know of a naughty little place in France where you can get dancing.
He'll jump at it!”
Their brother regarded them with ever-increasing gloom.
”That kind of thing is not in my line--” he began; but once more he was impressed with the disadvantages of a bi-s.e.xual world. The two ladies seemed positively incapable of grasping his objections, either to wearing a Homburg hat or recommending a naughty French watering-place.
”I don't insist on its being white; grey will do,” said Mrs. Donaldson.
”Of course, I should never dream of taking him to a really disreputable place,” said Mrs. Ramornie; ”you only want a Casino and a little promenading, and so on.”
”It will be great fun, Andrew!”