Part 15 (1/2)

MISS T. I declare! After bringing all my trunks way up here! But I'd just as soon move down as not; they're not unpacked any. (_Joy of_ C.) Seems a pity, too, after engaging rooms here. And they looked real nice.

Mr. Culchard, don't you and Mr. Podbury want to come up here and take them? They've a perfectly splendid view, and then we could have yours, you know! (C. _cannot conceal his chagrin at this suggestion_.) Well, see here, Poppa, we'll go along and try if we can't square the hotel-clerk and get our baggage on the cars again, and then we'll see just how we feel about it. I'm purrfectly indifferent either way.

CULCH. (_to himself, as he follows_). Can she be really as indifferent as she seems? I'm afraid she has very little heart! But if only she can be induced to go back to Lugano.... She will be at the same hotel--a great point! I wish that fellow Van Boodeler wasn't coming too, though.... Not that they've settled to come at all yet!... Still, I fancy she likes the idea.... She'll come--if I don't appear too anxious about it!

[_He walks on, trying to whistle carelessly._

CHAPTER XIV.

+Miss Banquo.+

SCENE--_Gardens belonging to the Hotel du Parc, Lugano. Time, afternoon; the orchestra is turning up in a kiosk._ CULCHARD _is seated on a bench in the shade, keeping an anxious eye upon the opposite door_.

CULCH. (_to himself_). She said she had a headache, and made her father and Van Boodeler go out on the lake without her. But she certainly gave me to understand that she might come out when the band played, if she felt better. The question is, whether she _means_ to feel better or not.

She is the most tantalizing girl! _I_ don't know what to make of her.

Not a single reference, as yet, to that last talk we had at Bingen. I must see if I can't recall it to her memory--if she comes. I'll wait here, on the chance of it--we are not likely to be dis----. Confound it all--Podbury! (_with suppressed irritation as_ PODBURY _comes up_).

Well, do you _want_ anything in particular?

PODB. (_cheerfully, as he sits down_). Only the pleasure of your society, old chap. How nicely you do put things!

CULCH. The--er--fact is, I can't promise to be a particularly lively companion just now.

PODB. Not by way of a change? Ah, well, it's a pity--but I must put up with you as you are, I suppose. You see--(_with a grin_)--I've got that vow to work out.

CULCH. Possibly--but _I_ haven't. As I've already told you--I retire.

PODB. Wobbled back to Miss Trotter again, eh? Matter of taste, of course, but, for my part, I think your _first_ impression of her was nearer the truth--she's not what I call a highly cultivated sort of girl, y' know.

CULCH. You are naturally exacting on that point, but have the goodness to leave my first impressions alone, and--er--frankly, Podbury, I see no necessity (_now_, at all events) to take that ridiculous--hum--penance _too_ literally. We are _travelling_ together, and I imagine that is enough for Miss Prendergast.

PODB. It's enough for _me_--especially when you make yourself so doosid amiable as this. You needn't alarm yourself--you won't have any more of my company than I can help; only I _must_ say, for two fellows who came out to do a tour _together_, it's---- [_Walks away, grumbling._

_Later. The band has finished playing_; MISS TROTTER _is on the bench with_ CULCHARD.

MISS T. And you mean to tell me you've never met anybody since you even cared to converse with?

CULCH. (_diplomatically_). Does that strike you as so very incredible?

MISS T. Well, it strikes me as just a _little_ too thin. I judged you'd go away, and forget I ever existed.

CULCH. (_with tender reproach_). How little you know me! I may not be an--er--demonstrative man, my--er--feelings are not easily roused, but, once roused, well--(_wounded_)--I think I may claim to possess an ordinary degree of constancy!

MISS T. Well, I'm sure I _ought_ to feel it a vurry high compliment to have you going round grieving all this time on _my_ account.

CULCH. Grieving! Ah, if I could only _tell_ you what I went through!

(_Decides, on reflection, that the less he says about this the better._) But all that is past. And now may I not expect a more definite answer to the question I asked at Bingen? Your reply then was--well, a little ambiguous.