Part 15 (1/2)
”I introduced them the night before last.”
”I see.” Again Miss Wentworth's tone was significantly dry. ”Mr.
Paxton has never seemed to me to be a man whose confidence was easily gained, especially by a stranger. Mr. Lawrence must have progressed more rapidly with him even than with you. And, pray, what else was Mr.
Lawrence pleased to say of Mr. Paxton?”
”Oh, a lot of lies! Of course I knew that they were a lot of lies, but they made me so wild that I felt that I should like to shake him.”
”Shake me instead, my dear. One is given to understand that jolting is good for the liver. Who's that?”
There was a sound of knocking at the front door. Miss Strong glanced eagerly round. A flush came into her cheeks; a light into her eyes.
”Possibly that is the recalcitrant Mr. Paxton, in his own proper person, coming with apologies in both his hands. Perhaps you would like to go and see.”
CHAPTER X
CYRIL'S FRIEND
Miss Strong did like to go and see. She looked at Miss Wentworth with a make-believe of anger, and, rising to her feet, went quickly across the room. Admission had already been given to the knocker. There advanced towards the girl standing in the open door a man--who was not Mr. Paxton.
”Mr. Franklyn! I thought----”
There was a note of disappointment in her voice. She stopped short, as if desirous not to allow her self-betrayal to go too far. She moved a little back, so as to allow the newcomer to enter the room.
This newcomer was a man of the medium height, about forty years of age. His black hair was already streaked with grey. He had a firm, clear-cut, clean-shaven mouth and chin, and a pair of penetrating grey-black eyes, with which he had a trick of looking every one whom he addressed squarely in the face. His manner, ordinarily, was grave and deliberate, as if he liked to weigh each word he uttered. He held Miss Strong's hand for a moment in his cool, close grasp.
”Well; you thought what?”
”I'm very glad to see you--you know I am; but I thought it was Cyril.”
”Are you expecting him?”
”I was expecting him, but--it seems he hasn't come.”
Turning to Miss Wentworth he greeted her. And it was to be noted that as she offered him her hand a humorous twinkle beamed through her gla.s.ses, and her whole face was lighted by a smile. He turned again to Miss Strong.
”Have you heard the news?”
”What news?”
”Hasn't Cyril told you?”
”He told me something last night, but I really couldn't tell you quite what it was he told me, and I haven't seen him since.”
”He is in Brighton?”
”Is he? I was informed that he was stopping in town.”
”You were informed? By whom?”