Part 28 (2/2)

However, he hid his disapproval, and sitting down on another uncomfortable chair, he said gently, ”What does it mean when a lady is compromised, sir?”

”It means that some accident or other has given malignant fools a chance of gossipping about her,” said Sir Tancred in an unamiable tone.

”And the man has to marry her?”

”Of course he has,” snapped Sir Tancred.

”Ah!” said Tinker with supreme thoughtful satisfaction.

His father looked at him for a good minute with considerable suspicion, wondering what new mischief he was hatching. But Tinker looked like a guileless seraph pondering the innocent joys of the Islands of the Blessed, to a degree which made such a suspicion a very shameful thing indeed. Partly rea.s.sured, Sir Tancred returned to his brooding: he was angry with himself because he felt helpless in an _impa.s.se_. On the one hand, he could not bring himself to fly from Dorothy; on the other, he could not bring himself to abate his pride, and ask her to marry him. She was so rich; Septimus Rainer had talked of settling five million dollars on her. He looked again at the pondering Tinker; and his helpless irritation found the natural English vent in grumbling.

”Look here,” he said, half querulously, half whimsically, ”I told you that if you went on adding to our household, I should be travelling about Europe with a caravan. You began by adopting Elsie as a sister, and I said nothing. Then you added Miss Rainer as her governess, and I warned you. Miss Rainer added her father, a millionaire, and he added a maid, a valet, two secretaries, a courier, and a private detective.

All these people, I know them well, will marry; and I shall be a patriarch travelling with my tribe. It must stop.”

Tinker sighed. ”We are a large household--twelve of us, with Selina,”

he said thoughtfully. ”But you might make it more compact, sir.”

”More compact--how?”

”You might marry Dorothy; and then you and she could count as one.”

A sudden light of exasperation brightened Sir Tancred's eyes, and he made a grab at Tinker's arm. His hand closed on empty air; Tinker was flying like the wind along the promenade.

”Tinker!” roared Sir Tancred; but Tinker went round a corner at the moment at which only the T of his name could fairly be expected to have reached him. Sir Tancred ground his teeth, and then he laughed.

Tinker made a circuit, and came down to the sea, where he found Elsie playing with two little English girls staying at Arcachon with their mother. At once she deserted them for him, and when he had withdrawn her to a distance, he said, ”I've hit on a way of getting them married.”

”No! Have you? You are clever!” she cried with the ungrudging admiration she always accorded him.

”Clever? It only wants a little common-sense,” said Tinker with some disdain.

”I shall be glad.”

”So shall I. It'll be a weight off my mind, don't you know?” said Tinker with a sigh.

”I'm sure it will,” said the sympathetic Elsie.

”It must be awfully nice to be in love,” she added with conviction.

”Now, look here,” said Tinker in a terrible voice, ”if I catch you falling in love, I'll--I'll shake you!”

”But--but, I may be in love--ever so much, for anything you know,” said Elsie somewhat haughtily.

”You are not,” said Tinker sternly. ”Your appet.i.te is all right.

Don't talk any more nonsense, but come along, we've got to get ready for the picnic.”

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