Part 8 (1/2)
”Spells Calmour.”
There was a laugh at this.
”He is a holy terror, Monsignor,” explained Haldane. ”Sort of paints the town red at intervals. The whole lot of them are impossible, yet this girl seems an exception. She's been away from home a long time, I believe, and, of course, that may account for it.”
”Possibly,” said the prelate. ”I noticed her yesterday, and she seemed very devout. Are these people Catholics?”
”Not they. I don't suppose they're anything at all,” answered Haldane.
”Old Calmour was very 'sky blue' that day I called there,” said Wagram.
”He groped right past me, and I was thankful he didn't know me from Adam. He was certainly 'talking' when he couldn't batter his own gate in.”
”They say the girls have to stop their ears tight when he's 'fresh,'”
said Haldane; ”and yet Damages can do a little 'talking' off her own from all accounts.”
”You wouldn't think it to look at her,” said Wagram.
”That's just it. But I believe it's a fact, all the same.”
”Well, then, what about this other one?” pursued Wagram mischievously.
”She may be just as deceptive, and yet you've booked her to lunch at your place next week.”
”I rather pride myself on being a student of character,” said Haldane, ”and I don't, somehow, think this case will prove me wrong.”
”No; I don't think so either,” a.s.sented Wagram.
”I formed a favourable impression of her, too--the mere glimpse I had of her when we met,” said Monsignor Culham. ”She certainly is a very pretty girl, and I should think a good one. It might even be that in the fulness of time she should prove the means of salvaging the rest of the family.”
”Her brother Bob would take a great deal of salvaging,” said Haldane drily. ”Hallo, the child's late,” he added, with a glance at the clock.
”Said she'd be in before this.”
”In! Why, I thought she might be sleeping off the effects of her efforts yesterday,” said the Squire.
”Not she. She's adding to them. She's gone down with Hood to try and capture an early trout.”
”Really!” exclaimed Monsignor. ”Is she generally successful, Mr Haldane?”
”She's a very fair hand at throwing a fly. Really, though, Monsignor, I'm afraid you'll think me a doting sort of a driveller on that subject.
The fact is, we all spoil her shockingly among us. Wagram doesn't come far behind me in that line, and the Squire too.”
”I'm not surprised,” answered the prelate. ”I think she is without exception the dearest child I have ever seen, and the proof of it is she remains unspoiled through it all. Why, there she is.”
On the lawn she was standing, just handing her trout rod to the old head keeper, who could not refrain from turning his head with a smile of admiration as he walked away. Then she danced up to the window, the pink flush of health in her cheeks, the blue eyes alight with a mischievous challenge.
”Well? What luck, Sunbeam?” said Haldane, who was already at the open window.
”Ah--ah! I wasn't to get any, was I?” she cried ostentatiously, holding down the lid of her creel. ”Well--look.”