Part 42 (2/2)

A TANGLED TRINITY

An observer might have imagined d.i.c.k possessed of a just grievance against his tailor; it took him such a while to get into his coat. He was doing so to the accompaniment of ”Rule, Britannia,” pursed-up lips fas.h.i.+oning it. The difficulty with his coat was one of his own creation; he was thoroughly enjoying the situation and prolonging it as long as possible. The whistling served as a sort of slow music to his little drama.

There was not even a whisper of Masters' leaving England. Indeed, it was pretty certain that had he been going abroad, d.i.c.k would have been on hand as his travelling companion. He was, as he termed it, rubbing it in. Brothers are awful brutes at times.

”d.i.c.k! Dear d.i.c.k!”

She had come to him affectionately; had put her arms round his neck.

”Hold on there! Don't go s...o...b..ring on my front again; it is all limp and wet now. I don't want to get inflammation of the lungs through wearing a damp s.h.i.+rt! You are too liberal with your grief, Sis; keep some of it for your handkerchief.”

”I'm not crying. d.i.c.k--d.i.c.k--dear, dear old d.i.c.k.” She was whispering in his ear in an artful way that she had never known him able to resist.

”You know you would not like to make me miserable--your own loving sister----”

He was grinning from ear to ear. The humour of the situation appealed to him as he interrupted:

”None of your blarney; none of your soft sawder! What's the meaning of this sudden overflowing, spring-up-in-a-moment affection? I was an idiot, fool, stupid, a few minutes ago.”

”Dear d.i.c.k!”

”Yes, that's all very well. But what is it? This sudden discovery of my value means you want something.”

She put her mouth close to his ear and whispered again. A very low whisper; he only just caught it:

”Don't let him go, d.i.c.k.”

”Let who go?”

She knew that to be an evasion; that he was wilfully misunderstanding her. Just shook him and whispered earnestly:

”Please!”

d.i.c.k was magnanimous; he could afford to be. His deep-laid scheme had proved successful.

”Well, I'll see what I can do. But what are you going to do about the Chantrelles?”

A change came over her face; every sc.r.a.p of softness seemed to fade out of it. In a voice full of determination she said:

”The Chantrelles will leave here before the day is over!”

”Rule, Britannia” once more thrilled the air as the whistler caught his sister in his arms.

”You're a brick, old girl.” He kissed her. ”Things will pan out all right after all. Now, shall I stay and bear a hand, or would you rather handle the precious couple all by yourself?”

There was a steely glitter in her eye--it boded ill for the absent ones--as she answered vindictively:

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