Part 9 (1/2)
”Why, Eleanor Thursdale!” shouted the old lady, her aristocratic eyes almost crossing in their stare of amazement.
”Discovered!” groaned Dauntless to the willows.
Mrs. Van Truder pounced upon Eleanor and, between personal questions and impersonal reflections upon non-government railways, gave her a dizzy quarter of an hour. She ignored Mr. Dauntless almost completely,--quite entirely when she discovered Mr. Windoms.h.i.+re in the background. Little old Mr. Van Truder, in his usual state of subjection, was permitted to study the scenery at close range.
”I was so afraid you'd marry that horrid Dauntless fellow,” whispered Mrs. Van Truder. Eleanor gave vent to a constrained laugh.
”How perfectly preposterous!”
”When are you to be married, my dear?”
”At once--I mean, quite soon. Isn't the scenery beautiful, Mr. Van Truder?” asked Eleanor in desperation.
”It's too far away. I can't see it,” grumbled the old gentleman.
”He's so very near-sighted,” explained his wife. ”Do you expect to stay long at the Somerset?”
”It all depends,” said Eleanor, with a glance at Dauntless.
”Isn't that your governess with Mr. Windoms.h.i.+re? I can't be mistaken.”
”Yes, she's going out to spend a few weeks with a rich aunt,--her sister's mother, I think.”
”How's that?” gasped the old lady.
”I mean her mother's sister.”
”It sounded very strange, my dear.”
”About the mother having a sister?” guessed old Mr. Van Truder, sharply. ”Seems all right to me.”
”They are going to row us across the river,” volunteered Eleanor, helplessly.
”Good-morning, Mr. Windoms.h.i.+re,” called Mrs. Van Truder. Windoms.h.i.+re started and got very red in the face. Miss Courtenay's bow went unnoticed by the old lady. In sheer despair, the Englishman turned to Dauntless, a fellow-sufferer.
”I say, old man,” he began nervously, ”I'd like to ask a favour of you.”
”Go ahead--anything I can do,” said the other, blankly. Windoms.h.i.+re continued in lowered tones:
”Deucedly awkward, but I forgot my bags at Fenlock. I see you've got yours. Would you mind lending me a fresh s.h.i.+rt and a collar, old chap?”
”Gladly,” cried Joe, very much relieved. ”Will you take them now?”
starting to open his bag. Windoms.h.i.+re hastily interposed.
”I'd rather not, old chap. It's rather exposed here, don't you know.
Later on, if you please. Thanks, old man; I'll not forget this.” They shook hands without any apparent excuse.
”Mr. Windoms.h.i.+re!” called Mrs. Van Truder. He turned with a hopeless look in his eyes. The two girls had misery and consternation plainly stamped in their faces. ”We can't all go over in the next boats, you know. I've no doubt you and Miss Thursdale would not in the least mind being left to the last,” with a sly smile.
”Oh--er--ah, by Jove!” gasped Windoms.h.i.+re, with a glance at the still faces of the young women. He saw no relief there.