Part 18 (1/2)
”It is--quite true, quite true, Miss Merton,” he answered eagerly, dropping his voice a little and glancing uneasily over his shoulder. ”I--I have missed you very much indeed; it has been very dull.”
Mr. Blatherwick sighed; he was rewarded by a very kind glance from a pair of very blue eyes. He fingered the wine list, and began to wonder whether she would care for champagne.
”Now tell me,” she said, ”all the news. How are they all at Deringham Hall--the dear old Admiral and the Countess, and that remarkably silly young man, Lord Wolfenden?”
Wolfenden received a kick under the table, and Harcutt's face positively beamed with delight. Mr. Blatherwick, however, had almost forgotten their proximity. He had made up his mind to order champagne.
”The Ad--Ad--Admiral is well in health, but worse mentally,” he answered. ”I am leaving for that very reason. I do not conceive that in fairness to myself I should continue to waste my time in work which can bring forth no fruit. I trust, Miss Merton, that you agree with me.”
”Perfectly,” she answered gravely.
”The Countess,” he continued, ”is well, but much worried. There have been strange hap--hap--happenings at the Hall since you left. Lord Wolfenden is there. By the bye, Miss Merton,” he added, dropping his voice, ”I do not--not--think that you used to consider Lord Wolfenden so very silly when you were at Deringham.”
”It was very dull sometimes--when you were busy, Mr. Blatherwick,” she answered, beginning her lunch. ”I will confess to you that I did try to amuse myself a little with Lord Wolfenden. But he was altogether too rustic--too stupid! I like a man with brains!”
Harcutt produced a handkerchief and stuffed it to his mouth; his face was slowly becoming purple with suppressed laughter. Mr. Blatherwick ordered the champagne.
”I--I was very jealous of him,” he admitted almost in a whisper.
The blue eyes were raised again very eloquently to his.
”You had no cause,” she said gently; ”and Mr. Blatherwick, haven't you forgotten something?”
Mr. Blatherwick had sipped his gla.s.s of champagne, and answered without a stutter.
”I have not,” he said, ”forgotten you!”
”You used to call me by my Christian name!”
”I should be delighted to call you Miss--Blanche for ever,” he said boldly. ”May I?”
She laughed softly.
”Well, I don't quite know about that,” she said; ”you may for this morning, at least. It is so pleasant to see you again. How is the work getting on?”
He groaned.
”Don't ask me, please; it is awful! I am truly glad that I am leaving--for many reasons!”
”Have you finished copying those awful details of the defective armour plates?” she asked, suddenly dropping her voice so that it barely reached the other side of the table.
”Only last night,” he answered; ”it was very hard work, and so ridiculous! It went into the box with the rest of the finished work this morning.”
”Did the Admiral engage a new typewriter?” she inquired.
He shook his head.
”No; he says that he has nearly finished.”
”I am so glad,” she said. ”You have had no temptation to flirt then with anybody else, have you?”
”To flirt--with anybody else! Oh! Miss--I mean Blanche. Do you think that I could do that?”
His little round face shone with sincerity and the heat of the unaccustomed wine. His eyes were watering a little, and his spectacles were dull. The girl looked at him in amus.e.m.e.nt.
”I am afraid,” she said, with a sigh, ”that you used to flirt with me.”
”I can a.s.sure you, B--B--Blanche,” he declared earnestly, ”that I never said a word to you which I--I did not hon--hon--honestly mean. Blanche, I should like to ask you something.”
”Not now,” she interrupted hastily. ”Do you know, I fancy that we must be getting too confidential. That odious man with the eyegla.s.s keeps staring at us. Tell me what you are going to do when you leave here. You can ask me--what you were going to, afterwards.”
Mr. Blatherwick grew eloquent and Blanche was sympathetic. It was quite half an hour before they rose and prepared to depart.
”I know you won't mind,” Blanche said to him confidentially, ”if I ask you to leave the hotel first; the people I am with are a little particular, and it would scarcely do, you see, for us to go out together.”
”Certainly,” he replied. ”Would you l--like me to leave you here--would it be better?”
”You might walk to the door with me, please,” she said. ”I am afraid you must be very disappointed that your friend did not come. Are you not?”
Mr. Blatherwick's reply was almost incoherent in its excess of protestation. They walked down the room together. Harcutt and Wolfenden look at one another.
”Well,” the former exclaimed, drinking up his liqueur, ”it is a sell!”
”Yes,” Wolfenden agreed thoughtfully, with his eyes fixed upon the two departing figures, ”it is a sell!”
CHAPTER XXVII.
BY CHANCE OR DESIGN.
Wolfenden sent his phaeton to the station with Harcutt, who had been summoned back to town upon important business. Afterwards he slipped back to the hall to wait for its return, and came face to face with Mr. Blatherwick, who was starting homewards.
”I was looking for you,” Wolfenden said; ”your luncheon party turned out a little differently to anything we had expected.”
”I am happy,” Mr. Blatherwick said, ”to be able to believe that the letter was after all a hoax. There was no one in the room, as you would doubtless observe, likely to be in any way concerned in the matter.”
Wolfenden knocked the ash off his cigarette without replying.
”You seem,” he remarked, ”to be on fairly intimate terms with Miss Merton.”
”We were fellow workers for several months,” Mr. Blatherwick reminded him; ”naturally, we saw a good deal of one another.”
”She is,” Wolfenden continued, ”a very charming girl.”
”I consider her, in every way,” Mr. Blatherwick said with enthusiasm, ”a most delightful young lady. I--I am very much attached to her.”
Wolfenden laid his hand on the secretary's shoulder.