Part 31 (2/2)
”When will he come to the scratch?”
”Pretty soon, if you and your pals don't mess things.”
The gallant captain's brow lowered.
”None of your lip, my girl!” he remarked. ”What do you mean--mess things?”
”I mean that you'll have to play carefully if you aren't going to scare him away.”
”Scare him? How?”
”Well, you and the others are a bit out of your depth in this affair.
I'll do you the justice, Dad, to admit that in the ordinary way of business you are a hard nut to crack; but coming the country gentleman over a man who, though he's a mug, _is_ a country gentleman, is rather more of a job than your lot can manage comfortably. Look at Jerry!”
”What's wrong with Jerry?”
”Him? It's the first time he's played at being a gamekeeper, and he doesn't know the rules, that's all.”
”How do you know?”
”The Honourable told me. Said it wasn't his business, of course, but he was afraid my father had got hold of a thoroughly incompetent keeper, and perhaps he ought to be told so--haw!”
The captain snorted.
”What did you say?” he asked.
”I advised him,” replied his daughter, smiling indulgently, ”not to mention it. I said you were rather fond of your own judgment in some things, and might be offended.”
”Well, Jerry does his best,” said Lottingar; ”but you are right, Lottie, for all that. He'll muck things. You must keep the young fool out of his way. Can't you take him out for walks, or something?”
”Walks? What excitement!” Miss Lottingar cast up her eyes pathetically.
”Well, you can go motoring with him as soon as we get a chauffeur.
That's what I wanted to see you about.”
”Who is the chauffeur? One of the--one of your friends?”
”No, worse luck! Every man I can trust is in this business already. We must make s.h.i.+ft with some absolutely straight fool.”
”That'll be a pleasant change,” remarked Miss Lottingar.
”It will be all right in the long run,” continued her father. ”He need never suspect anything. We can keep him mowing the gra.s.s or something during his spare time. And if you can't bring off that proposal within a week, my girl,” he concluded, throwing his cigarette into the grate, ”you're not the sort I took you for.”
”Give me the motor; I'll do the rest,” said Miss Lottie, quite undisturbed by this direct reference to her virgin affections.
”And for the Lord's sake be quick about it! The expense of all this flummery is something cruel. There'll be nothing left to divide when it's all over if you can't--”
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