Part 39 (1/2)

They were certainly very good dogs--if to make a most excruciating noise const.i.tutes merit. George G.o.dolphin, his nerves still in a shattered condition, lifted his hand wearily to his forehead. It brought Charlotte Pain to her recollection.

”Oh, George, I forgot! I did, really! I forgot you were not as strong yet as the rest of us. Be quiet, then, you three horrid brutes! Be quiet, will you! Go off, and quarrel outside.”

Using her pointed toe rather liberally, Charlotte set herself to scatter the dogs. They were not very obedient. As soon as one was got out another sprang in, the noise never ceasing. Charlotte s.n.a.t.c.hed up a basket of macaroons that happened to be on a side-table, and scattered the cakes on the terrace. ”There, quarrel and fight over those!”

She put down the empty basket, closed the window to shut out the noise, and turned to George. Spreading out her dress on either side, after the manner once in vogue in ancient ballrooms she dropped him an elaborate curtsey.

”Mr. George G.o.dolphin, what honour do you suppose is thrust upon me to-day?”

”You must tell me, Charlotte, if it's one you wish me to know,” he answered. ”I can never attempt to guess when I feel tired; as I do now.”

”Your walk has tired you?”

”I suppose it has. Though I thought how well I felt as I came along.”

”The great honour of entertaining you all by my own self is delegated to me,” cried Charlotte gaily, dropping another curtsey. ”I hope we shall not quarrel, as those dogs are doing.”

”The honour of entertaining me!” he repeated, not grasping her meaning.

”Entertaining me for what?”

”For dinner, sir. Mrs. Verrall has gone to London.”

”No!” he exclaimed. He did not believe her.

Charlotte nodded. ”She went at midday.”

”But what took her away so suddenly?” exclaimed George, in surprise.

”She had no intention yesterday of going.”

”A freak. Or, impulse--if you like the word better. Kate rarely acts upon anything else. She has been expecting Verrall home these last three days; but he has neither come nor written: and this morning, after the post was in, she suddenly declared she'd go to town, and see what was keeping him.”

”They may cross each other on the road.”

”Of course they may: and Kate have her journey for her pains. That's nothing to her: she likes travelling. 'What am I to do with Mr. George G.o.dolphin? Entertain him?' I said to her. 'I suppose you can contrive to do it,' she answered. 'I suppose I could,' I said. 'But, what about its being proper?' I asked,” added Charlotte, with a demure glance at George. ”'Oh,' said Kate, 'it's proper enough, poor sick fellow: it would never do to disappoint him.' Therefore, sir, please take care that you behave properly, considering that a young lady is your hostess.”

She threw a laughing glance at George; and, sitting down at the table, took a pack of beautifully painted cards from an ivory box, and began that delectable game that the French call ”Patience.” George watched her from the sofa where he was sitting. A certain thought had darted into his mind. What fit of prudence called it up? Did he think of Charlotte's good?--or of his own? Did the recollection of what Cecil had whispered actuate him? It cannot be told. It was very far indeed from George G.o.dolphin's intention to make a wife of Charlotte Pain, and he may have deemed it well to avoid all situations where he might compromise himself by a hasty word. Such words are more easily dropped than taken up again.

Or perhaps George, free and careless though he was, reflected that it was not altogether the thing for Charlotte Pain to entertain him alone.

With all his faults, George G.o.dolphin was a gentleman: and Charlotte was not altogether fitted for a gentleman's wife.

”I am glad of it, Charlotte,” he remarked. ”I shall now have to make excuses to one only, instead of to two. I came to ask Mrs. Verrall to allow me to break through my engagement.”

Charlotte had a knave in her hand, pondering where she could place it.

She dropped it in her surprise.

”I must dine at home to-day, Charlotte. An old friend of my father and mother's, Mrs. Briscow, is arriving for dinner. I cannot be absent.”

The flush deepened on Charlotte's face. ”It is unkind of you!” she resentfully said. ”But I knew before what your promises are worth.”

”Unkind? But, Charlotte, I did not know until this morning that Mrs.