Part 28 (1/2)
She looked up at him with s.h.i.+ning eyes. Pip saw them, and permitted himself one brief gaze. This was no time for tender pa.s.sages. He put his hand in his pocket and produced a rather crumpled envelope.
”Would you mind giving that to the Squire for me?” he said. ”I have to go away.”
”Go away? Oh, Pip! Now?”
”Yes, you see, I have just--”
”But are you going to leave me in the house with that man?” cried Elsie, with a sudden access of her old terror.
”If I am any judge of human nature,” said Pip, ”he is out of the house by this time. I don't think he will even wait for his luggage. He--he's not very presentable. I see the trap has come round for him. It can take me instead, and I'll cart his luggage up to town and leave it at his club. I owe him some consideration,” he added, surveying his knuckles thoughtfully.
Elsie acquiesced.
”Yes, that will be best,” she said. ”The Ch.e.l.ls will think he went off in the ordinary way, and n.o.body will ever know--Pip, it was awful.”
She broke off, and shuddered again and again.
”I should go and lie down till dinner if I were you,” said Pip gently.
”All over now: forget it. Good-bye.”
They shook hands and walked to the door together.
”Why are you going away like this?” said Elsie, as the groom piled the luggage into the trap.
Pip's face clouded.
”I'm ashamed to say that what has happened made me forget for a bit,” he said. ”I have just had a wire from Pipette--I say, here is the whole cricket-party coming across the lawn! I simply can't face them now. I could have told you about it, but not them. Good-bye, and--good-bye. I shall see you again soon, I hope.”
He jumped into the cart, and was rattling down the drive by the time that the cricketers and their attendant throng, hot, noisy, and jubilant, burst like a wave into the hall. Elsie turned hastily from a window as they entered.
”Hallo, Elsie,” cried Raven Innes, ”what are you doing here?”
”Rather a headache, Raven. I have stayed in since tea,” said Elsie.
”You certainly don't look very well, dear,” said Mrs. Ch.e.l.l.
”You missed a great finish,” said c.o.c.kles.
”Only two wickets,” shrieked the flapper.
”Yes,” added the Squire, ”and if one of them had gone down we should have been dished. Pip deserted. Where was the ruffian? Have you seen anything of him, my dear?”
”Yes,” said Elsie; ”he was here just now.”
One or two knowing smiles illuminated the honest faces of the cricketers.
”He came up,” she continued composedly, ”about four, and hurried away to catch the five-thirty train. He has just gone. He gave me this note for you, Mr. Ch.e.l.l.”