Part 6 (2/2)

He did not speak for several seconds. At length, ”How old are you?” he said abruptly.

”Eighteen,” she murmured.

He continued to look at her speculatively. ”Well,” he said at length, speaking with something of a tw.a.n.g, ”I guess your father knows what he's about, but it beats me to understand why he has me here to study. I guess I'd better shunt.”

”Oh, please don't!” she said quickly. ”It isn't you at all. It's only Nap.”

”d.a.m.n Nap!” said Bertie, with some fervour. ”Oh, does that shock you? I forgot you were a parson's daughter. Well, it may be your father is right after all. Anyway, I shan't quarrel with him so long as he doesn't taboo me too.”

”He won't do that,” said Dot, with confidence. ”He likes you.”

Bertie's good-looking face began to smile again. ”Well, I'm not a blackguard anyway,” he said. ”And I never shall be if you keep on being kind to me. That's understood, is it? Then shake!”

They shook, and Dot realised with relief that the difficult subject was dismissed.

CHAPTER V

THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

It was a week after the Hunt Ball that Anne Carfax, sitting alone at tea in her drawing-room before a blazing fire, was surprised by the sudden opening of the door, and the announcement of old Dimsdale the butler, ”Mr. Nap Errol to see your ladys.h.i.+p!”

She rose to meet him, her surprise in her face, and he, entering with that light, half-stealthy tread of his, responded to it before his hand touched hers.

”I know my presence is unexpected, and my welcome precarious, but as none of my friends have been able to give me any news of you, I determined to chance my reception and come myself to inquire for your welfare.”

”You are very good,” said Anne, but she spoke with a certain stateliness notwithstanding. There was no pleasure in her eyes.

Nap, however, was sublimely self-a.s.sured. ”I am beginning to think I must be,” he said, ”since you say so. For I know you to be strictly truthful.”

Anne made no response. She did not even smile.

”I am in luck to find you alone,” proceeded Nap, surveying her with bold dark eyes that were nothing daunted by her lack of cordiality.

”My husband will be in soon,” she answered quietly.

”I shall be delighted to make his acquaintance,” said Nap imperturbably.

”Has he been hunting?”

”Yes.” Anne's tone was distant. She seemed to be unaware of the fact that her visitor was still on his feet.

But Nap knew no embarra.s.sment. He stood on the hearth with his back to the fire. ”You ought to hunt,” he said. ”Why don't you?”

”I do--occasionally,” Anne said.

”What's the good of that? You ought to regularly. There's nothing like it. Say, Lady Carfax, why don't you?” He smiled upon her disarmingly.

<script>