Part 58 (1/2)
”Of course I am, Sir Charles,” Madeline interposed. ”But we are not going to talk law or gospel, are we? Mr. Harvey has asked me to go for a little run on his yacht, and I really want to go ever so much!”
”But we leave here for Paris on Monday, Madeline. I fear there is no time.”
Peter J. puckered his face into a knowing smile. ”According to my calculations,” he said, ”Monday is five days off. We could almost circ.u.mnavigate this little arm of the ocean in that time. But we are talking of a run of a couple of days more or less.”
”It seems hardly worth the trouble, does it, Madeline?” Sir Charles questioned, in a bored tone.
”Oh! quite worth it, Sir Charles. Think how lovely the sea is, and how beautifully calm, and then you know Mr. Harvey's yacht is as big as an ocean steamer. In a couple of days we could go to Naples and back, and wouldn't it be lovely to see Naples!”
”Naples is an interesting place, no doubt. But the weather is getting warm--hot, I may say.”
”But we need not land unless we like,” Mr. Harvey interposed.
”Of course----” Sir Charles began, hesitatingly.
”Then that is settled, my dears,” Peter J. interrupted. ”I knew his lords.h.i.+p would not deprive you of a pleasure if you desired it very much. Now, you girls, run away and put a few things in a bonnet-box, sufficient for a forty-eight hours' trip. Perhaps, when we return, your excellency will so far honour us as to come on board and dine with us.”
”Thank you, it is very kind of you.”
”Not at all. I believe in showing hospitality when it is in my power to do so. Would you mind trying one of my cigars? I think you will find the flavour excellent.”
Sir Charles hesitated for a moment, then took the proffered weed and proceeded to cut the end off with a penknife.
Meanwhile Madeline and Kitty had rushed off to Madeline's room and began packing boxes with all possible speed.
”Rather large bonnet boxes, eh, Madeline?” Kitty questioned, with a laugh.
”Do you know, I feel like a burglar,” Madeline answered.
”I never was a burglar,” was the reply, ”so I don't know what it feels like to be one.”
”Everything will be terribly crushed,” Madeline went on, ”but I can't help it. Will you ring for the porter, Kitty?”
”All right, my dear, and I will drive off with the baggage while you and father are paying your adieux to the Baronet. If he were to see you going off with all these boxes he might scent mischief.”
”How clever you are, Kitty,” Madeline said, with a laugh. ”That idea is just lovely. But will you lock these boxes, my hands are shaking so I can hardly hold the keys.”
”Why, we might be escaping from a robbers' castle. What is the use of getting so excited?”
”I can't help it, Kitty. I've been looking round for weeks and weeks for some way of getting out of a most uncomfortable position, and you cannot imagine how helpless I have felt. And now I feel--oh, I can't tell you what I feel--but here's the porter.”
Madeline went down to the office and explained matters, and saw Kitty drive away with her luggage. Then she returned to the lounge, where Sir Charles, looking very bored, was listening to a long account of how Peter J. Harvey made his pile in copper.
On catching sight of Madeline, Peter J. brought his story to an abrupt conclusion and rose slowly to his feet.
”Need I disturb Lady Tregony and Beryl, do you think?” Madeline inquired, innocently, looking Sir Charles straight in the eyes.
”As you think best, Madeline,” Sir Charles replied, blandly. ”I sent up word to them that you had returned safe and sound.”