Part 13 (2/2)
”Right you are,” said young Erroll, flinging off his very new and very fas.h.i.+onable overcoat--a wonderfully handsome boy, with all the attraction that a quick, warm, impulsive manner carries. ”And I say, Selwyn, it was awfully decent of you to--”
”Bos.h.!.+ Friends are for that sort of thing, Gerald. Sit here--” He looked at the young man hesitatingly; but Gerald calmly took the matter out of his jurisdiction by nodding his order to the club attendant.
”Lord, but I'm tired,” he said, sinking back into a big arm-chair; ”I was up till daylight, and then I had to be in the office by nine, and to-night Billy Fleetwood is giving--oh, something or other. By the way, the market isn't doing a thing to the shorts! You're not in, are you, Selwyn?”
”No, not that way. I hope you are not, either; are you, Gerald?”
”Oh, it's all right,” replied the young fellow confidently; and raising his gla.s.s, he nodded at Selwyn with a smile.
”You were mighty nice to me, anyhow,” he said, setting his gla.s.s aside and lighting a cigar. ”You see, I went to a dance, and after a while some of us cleared out, and Jack Ruthven offered us trouble; so half a dozen of us went there. I had the worst cards a man ever drew to a kicker. That was all about it.”
The boy was utterly unconscious that he was treading on delicate ground as he rattled on in his warmhearted, frank, and generous way. Totally oblivious that the very name of Ruthven must be unwelcome if not offensive to his listener, he laughed through a description of the affair, its thrilling episodes, and Mrs. Jack Ruthven's blind luck in the draw.
”One moment,” interrupted Selwyn, very gently; ”do you mind saying whether you banked my check and drew against it?”
”Why, no; I just endorsed it over.”
”To--to whom?--if I may venture--”
”Certainly,” he said, with a laugh; ”to Mrs. Jack--” Then, in a flash, for the first time the boy realised what he was saying, and stopped aghast, scarlet to his hair.
Selwyn's face had little colour remaining in it, but he said very kindly: ”It's all right, Gerald; don't worry--”
”I'm a beast!” broke out the boy; ”I beg your pardon a thousand times.”
”Granted, old chap. But, Gerald, may I say one thing--or perhaps two?”
”Go ahead! Give it to me good and plenty!”
”It's only this: couldn't you and I see one another a little oftener?
Don't be afraid of me; I'm no wet blanket. I'm not so very aged, either; I know something of the world--I understand something of men.
I'm pretty good company, Gerald. What do you say?”
”I say, _sure_!” cried the boy warmly.
”It's a go, then. And one thing more: couldn't you manage to come up to the house a little oftener? Everybody misses you, of course; I think your sister is a trifle sensitive--”
”I will!” said Gerald, blus.h.i.+ng. ”Somehow I've had such a lot on hand--all day at the office, and something on every evening. I know perfectly well I've neglected Eily--and everybody. But the first moment I can find free--”
Selwyn nodded. ”And last of all,” he said, ”there's something about my own affairs that I thought you might advise me on.”
Gerald, proud, enchanted, stood very straight; the older man continued gravely:
”I've a little capital to invest--not very much. Suppose--and this, I need not add, is in confidence between us--suppose I suggested to Mr.
Neergard--”
<script>