1
“We shall dine in the kitchen,” said Mabel. “The dining-room and drawing-room are finished, but I am keeping them locked up until the workmen are out of the house, and all the mess is cleared away.”
“You are an excellent housekeeper,” said Luke. “Won’t it be jolly to dine in the kitchen with Dot and Dash?”
“Ellen will sit in the garden while we are at dinner. Kate will wait on us as usual. I am sorry to say that a workman spilt a pail of whitewash in your room. Most of it went over your books. After dinner we will sit in the den.”
“Mabel,” said Luke, “when I told you of the suffering that would happen to me in consequence of Effie having the illegitimate child, which she never did, you said that it was all impossible. Part of it has come true. They don’t want me to go to the business any more, and they’ve said so.”
“Have they?” said Mabel. “Of course I knew they would. I’ve been expecting it for some time past. You see, you’re not fitted for business. I don’t know that you’re particularly fitted for anything. Well, when you talked to me about that Effie nonsense, I told you I’d arrange a little martyrdom for you if I could. Haven’t I done it?”
“You have. In the interest of my sanity——”
“In the interests of your what?”
“In the interests of my sanity I shall go to Brighton for the week-end.”
“Do,” said Mabel. “You’re terribly in the way here. It’s about the first sensible idea you’ve had for this last year.”
By half-past ten next morning he was on the platform at Victoria station. Would Jona be there?
Apparently not. He caught a distant glimpse of Lord Tyburn, but it was not with him that he was proposing to elope. Besides, Tyburn was accompanied by a somewhat highly painted and decorated young lady. Luke waited till the last moment, and waited in vain. He stepped into the train just as it was moving off.