Part 29 (1/2)

The great campaign was to begin on the following Monday, though Andy would not be at leisure to devote himself to it till a week later. The talk ran on it. Wellgood, who seemed in excellent spirits, displayed keen interest in the line Harry meant to take, and was ready to be chairman whenever desired. Even Mrs. Belfield herself showed some mild excitement, and promised to attend one meeting. The girls were to go to as many as possible, Vivien being full of tremulous antic.i.p.ation of Harry's triumph, Isobel almost as enthusiastic a partisan. She had met Andy with a perfection of composure which drove out of his head any idea that she suspected him of secret knowledge.

”I'm afraid Harry's been overworking himself over it, poor boy,” said Mrs. Belfield. ”Don't you think he looks pale, Mr. Wellgood?”

”I don't know where he's found the time to overwork,” Wellgood answered, with a gruff laugh. ”We can account for most of his time at Nutley.”

Harry burst into a laugh, and gulped down his wine. He was drinking a good deal of champagne.

”I sigh as a lover, mother,” he explained.

”That's what makes me pale--if I am pale.” His tone turned to sudden irritation. ”Don't all look at me. There's nothing the matter.” He laughed again; he seemed full of changes of mood to-night. ”The speeches won't give me much trouble.”

”I'm sure you need have no other trouble, dear,” said Mrs. Belfield, with an affectionate glance at Vivien.

”He'll have much more trouble with me, won't he?” Vivien laughed.

Andy stole a look at Isobel. He was filled with admiration; a smile of just the right degree of sympathy ornamented her lips. A profane idea that she must be in the habit of being kissed crossed his mind. It was difficult to see how she could be, though--at Nutley. Kissing takes two.

He did not suspect Wellgood, and he was innocent himself.

Another eye was watching--shrewder and more experienced than Andy's--watching Harry, watching Isobel, watching while Andy stole his glance at Isobel. It was easy to keep bluff Wellgood in the dark; his own self-confidence hoodwinked him. Belfield was harder to blind; for those who had anything to conceal, it was lucky that he did not live at Nutley.

”Well, waiting for a wedding's tiresome work for all concerned, isn't it?” he said to Isobel, who sat next him.

”Yes, even waiting for other people's. It's such a provisional sort of time, Mr. Belfield.”

”You've forsworn one set of pleasures, and haven't got the other yet.

You've ceased to be a rover, and you haven't got a home.”

”You don't seem to consider being engaged a very joyful period?” she smiled.

”On the whole, I don't, Miss Vintry, though Vivien there looks pretty happy. But it's telling on Harry, I'm sure.”

She looked across at Harry. ”Yes, I think it is a little,” came apparently as the result of a scrutiny suggested by Belfield's words. ”I hadn't noticed it, but I'm afraid you're right.”

”If there's anything up, she's a cool hand,” thought Belfield. ”You must try to distract his thoughts,” he told her.

”I try to let them see as little of me as possible.”

”Too complete a realization of matrimonial solitude _a deux_ before marriage--Is that advisable?”

”You put too difficult questions for a poor spinster to answer, Mr.

Belfield.”

He got nothing out of her, but from the corner of his eye he saw Harry watching him as he talked to Isobel. Turning his head sharply, he met his son's glance full and straight. Harry dropped his eyes suddenly, and again drank off his champagne. Belfield looked sideways at the composed lady on his right, and pursed up his lips a little.

Wellgood stayed with him to-night after dinner, the young men joining the ladies in the garden for coffee.

”Our friend Miss Vintry's in great good looks to-night, Wellgood.

Remarkably handsome girl!”