Part 16 (1/2)

”Certainly,” answered Norburn, though it is doubtful if he had in truth intended to do so, but for Daisy's taunts.

A tragic silence followed. At last, Miss Medland exclaimed,

”What will Lady Eynesford think of my friends?”

”I didn't know you cared so much for what Lady Eynesford thought.

Besides, I need not present myself in that character.”

”Oh, if you're going to be disagreeable!”

”For my part, I'm sorry you're going at all.”

”Thank you. Is that because I shall enjoy it?”

”I don't care for that sort of society.”

”I like it above everything.”

Matters having thus reached a direct issue, Norburn clapped the _causa belli_ on his head, and walked out of the room, dimly conscious that he had done himself as much harm as he possibly could in the s.p.a.ce of a quarter of an hour. When he grew cool, he confessed that the momentary, if real, pleasure of being unpleasant was somewhat dearly bought at the cost of enmity with Daisy Medland. Indeed this unhappy young man, for all that his whole soul was by way of being absorbed in reconstructing society, would have thought most things a bad bargain at such a price.

But his bitterness had been too strong. It seemed as though all his devotion, ay, and--he did not scruple to say to himself--all his real gifts were to weigh as nothing against the cut of a coat and the ”sit”

of a cravat--for to such elemental const.i.tuents his merciless and jealous a.n.a.lysis reduced poor d.i.c.k Derosne's attractions.

Little recked d.i.c.k of Norburn's feelings in the glow of his triumph. He was convinced that he alone had persuaded Lady Eynesford into including Daisy in her invitation to luncheon at the opening of the flower-show.

It would have been a pity, in the mere interests of truth, to interfere with this conceit of d.i.c.k's, and Eleanor forbore to disclose her own share in the matter, or to hint at that long interview between the Governor and his wife.

”We shall live to regret it,” said Lady Eynesford, ”but it shall be as you wish, Willie.”

So the Medlands came with the rest of the world to the flower-show, and were received with due ceremony and regaled with suitable fare. And afterwards the Governor took Daisy for a stroll through the tents, and, having thus done his duty handsomely, handed her over to d.i.c.k; but she and d.i.c.k found the tents stuffy and crowded, and sat down under the trees and enjoyed themselves very much, until Mr. Puttock espied them and came up to them, accompanied by a friend.

”I hope you're not very angry with me, Miss Daisy?” said Puttock, thinking she might resent his desertion of the Premier.

”Oh, but I am!” said Daisy, and truly enough, whatever the reason might be.

”Well, you mustn't visit it on my friend here, who is anxious to make your acquaintance. Miss Medland--Mr. Benham.”

Benham sat down and began to make himself agreeable. He had a flow of conversation, and seemed in no hurry to move. Captain Heseltine appeared with a summons for d.i.c.k, who sulkily obeyed. Puttock caught sight of Jewell, and, with an apology, pursued him. Benham sat talking to Daisy Medland. Presently he proposed they should go where they would see the people better, and Daisy, who was bored, eagerly acquiesced. They took a seat by the side of the broad gravel walk.

”Will no one rescue me?” thought Daisy.

”He's bound to pa.s.s soon,” thought Benham.

Benham's wish was the first to be fulfilled. Before long the Premier came in sight, accompanied by c.o.xon.

”Ah, there's your daughter,” said the latter. ”You were wondering where she was.”

Medland looked, and saw Daisy and Benham sitting side by side. He quickened his pace and went up to them. Benham rose and took off his hat. Medland ignored him.

”I was looking for you, Daisy,” he said. ”I want you.”