SYMPATHY OR ANTIPATHY?
The captain, as he opened his bedroom window, saw Mr. Leicester Dodson's departure, and was rather surprised.
Captain Murpoint was too shrewd an observer of human nature not to have noticed Mr. Leicester's evident partiality for Miss Violet's society, and, although it would seem to be antagonistic to the captain's plans that the young man should be hanging about the house, yet, in reality, he was quite willing that Violet's attention should be absorbed by handsome Mr. Leicester, or any one else, so that it was drawn for the present from Captain Murpoint.
He could not understand Mr. Leicester's sudden flight, and Mr. Starling, when interrogated, could not very much enlighten him.
Jem or "Starling," as the captain now called him, entered his master's bedroom with the water for the bath, and found the captain still in bed, but with his head resting on one strong hand, and his face turned dreamily to the window.
Starling grunted his morning salutation, and the captain nodded.
"Go to the window," he said, "and tell me if that young Dodson's dogcart has come back; if I have calculated correctly, it has just had about time enough to get to the station and back."
"Here it comes, captain."
"Without Mr. Leicester?"
"Without Mr. Leicester," replied Starling.
"Then he has gone to town," said the captain, springing out of bed and stretching himself thoughtfully. "Gone to town! What the deuce has he gone to town for?"
"That's what everybody wants to know," said Jem, from the next room, where he was spreading out the towels and pouring the water into the bath.
"Did you make friends with the people in the servants' hall at the Cedars?" asked the captain.
"I did, captain, obedient to your commands," said Jem with a wink. "And a very nice, genteel lot o' people they are, though I prefer the hall here, if there's any choice. Oh, yes, I walked up last night, permiscous like, and when they knew as I was your man they made me welcome, drawed me some of the best October and would 'a' opened a bottle of Madery, but I wouldn't hear on it—I allus was so modest. I had a cut of duck and a helpin' o' some sort o' cream with a long, furrin name——"
"Tush! I don't want to know what you had to eat and drink," interrupted the captain. "What did you hear?"
"Not much," he said, laying out the captain's ready-brushed morning suit. "I heard that Mr. Leicester was going up to London this morning, quite sudden like—and he ain't one of your impulse gents, neither. His man didn't know what was up, and depended to stop here for another month at the least. There wasn't anything awkward between the old people and the young 'un, neither, for the butler—which is a more high and mighty swell, in a bigger shirt front, than our chap—he heard Mr. Dodson beg o' Mr. Leicester to stop. But, no, he said he'd go, and gone he has, sure enough."
"And now you can go," said the captain. "Stay! did you find that piece of paper which I told you to look for in the drawing room?"
"No, captain, and I looked everywhere."
"Idiot!" said the captain, between his teeth, "let that be a warning to you never to put your clumsy paw to paper again. How do I know who may have picked that up, with its cursed, telltale sentence?"
"I beg pardon," said Jem, humbly, "but I thought I was doing right. This 'ere inspector was a man from London, and he might have spotted either of us——"
"Enough," said the captain, with a displeased frown.
"You were right to be cautious, and to give me warning, but you should have taken a better way in which to do it. Your grinning face and that stupid business of the letter were enough to arouse the suspicions of a child. Has the inspector gone?"
"Yes, captain," said Jem, "went last night. Found everythink satisfactory; the force in fine condition, and the reserve able and active. He! he!"
"What are you laughing at?" said the captain.
"There's only one policeman—bar the coastguard, which don't count—in the place," grinned Jem.
"Only one policeman—and the coastguard!" mused the captain.
Then he muttered, "All the better," and, dismissing his faithful servant, he prepared for his bath.
For a week Violet felt very dull, and the captain, who watched her closely behind his well-assumed simplicity and carelessness, found that all his amusing stories, songs and little pieces of acting failed to amuse her, and he was not surprised to hear Mrs. Mildmay say at breakfast one morning:
"My dear Violet, you want change of scene. You look tired, my child. If we can persuade Captain Murpoint to accompany us, we will go up to town for a week or two."
The captain bowed.
"I must be taking my flight soon, my dear madam. I have made a long stay."
Violet looked up with one of her frank, open glances.
"You will not go yet!" she said. "You will make this your home, Captain Murpoint, as you would have done if my father were master here."
The captain's eyes moistened, and his voice trembled with emotion as he bowed over to her in his courtly way.
"My dear Miss Mildmay," he said, in a low voice, "I express my gratitude for your generous, warm-hearted welcome, and, though I cannot consent to make the Park my home, I will stay a little longer, for I must confess that I am loath to go."
"Stay as long as you can—forever!" said Violet, in her impulsive way. "You are my father's best friend, and mine, therefore."
"Do not let me be a drag on any of your plans," said the captain, earnestly. "I am an old campaigner, and can make myself comfortable anywhere. This is a charming place, but if Mrs. Mildmay would like a change, pray, pray do not let me be a hindrance."
"There is plenty of room over and over again for you in Park Place," said Violet, smiling. "So you will be no hindrance, Captain Murpoint. But I do not know that auntie really means to go to town—do you, auntie?"
"Well, my dear——" said Mrs. Mildmay, with hesitating indecision.
"At least," laughed Violet, "you will wait a week to think over it. You and Captain Murpoint can sit in council while I take a drive. I am going to try Dot and Spot in tandem," and she ran from the room.
"Be careful, my dear!" Mrs. Mildmay called after her, and the girl's light laugh rang back in loving mockery.
But something occurred within the next half hour which put the projected journey to London on the shelf for a while.
As Dot and Spot were trotting down the steep road, in very high spirits and showing signs of rebellion, Violet saw two gentlemen walking slowly up the hill.
Her attention was so much absorbed by the ponies that she did not bestow more than a glance upon them at first, and it was not until she had got considerably nearer to them that she recognized in one Mr. Leicester Dodson.
Impulsive, as usual, she on the instant determined to change places with that gentleman in the matter of pride, and show him that she also could be inconsistent, therefore, when she came on a level with the gentlemen, she merely responded to the uplifting of Mr. Leicester's deerstalker by a cool, little nod, and whipped up Dot into a sharper trot.
Leicester, who had pulled up expecting a little parley, colored slightly, and to Bertie Fairfax's enthusiastic exclamation, "I say, Les, what a beautiful creature," replied, rather coldly:
"Do you think so? That is Miss Violet Mildmay."
Bertie glanced up at Leicester's face, and whistled, comically.
"By Jove! she gave you the cut direct, Les."
"I am sure, I don't know," said Mr. Leicester, with the most provoking gravity. "She did, most likely, if you say so, Bertie—you, who are so well versed in woman's wiles and smiles."
"Hem!" laughed Bertie, "you haven't made much impression in that quarter, Les, and—Hello!" he broke off, "those blessed ponies have started round, and here they come, neck or nothing! By Heaven! they'll be over that wall, trap and all, if she don't pull them in directly!"
Leicester turned round sharply, and, without a word, set off running across the road.
"Keep tight hold of the reins!" he cried, in his deep, musical voice, as the two ponies came dashing along, with their wicked, little heads thrown back and the tiny, toy phaeton swinging and rocking behind them. "Keep a tight hand on the reins, and don't be frightened," he added, as he glanced at Violet's face, which was pale, but set fast and firm with determination and courage.
She nodded slightly to show him that she heard and would obey, and he saw the tiny, little hands close fast upon the reins.
The next instant he made a spring at the pony with such force that the little animal was nearly knocked over, and dragged him to a standstill.
Snap went one of the traces, and up went Master Spot, but a round smack on the head from Leicester's hand quieted him, and then Leicester turned, with a smile, to Violet.
"You haven't acquired the art yet," he said, nodding laughingly. "I am afraid you do not use the whip enough."
Violet bit her lip with vexation for a moment in silence, then burst into a merry laugh, which had not a particle of fear in it.
"Tiresome little beast!" she said, "he would turn round! I did whip him, indeed, I did! But he was so obstinate, and so—and so—I thought I would let him go!"
Mr. Leicester smiled incredulously, and Violet, understanding the smile, laughed again.
"Well, I really do believe I could have pulled him in if I had tried a little harder!"
"Then you will not forgive me for interfering," he said.
Violet's smile changed immediately, and her beautiful eyes grew grave.
"I am only jesting," she said, in a low voice. "I know how kind you have been, and what you saved me from," and she glanced at the low wall, significantly.
"You must not try tandem alone just yet," he said.
At that moment, which was rather an awkward one, Bertie Fairfax came up, and Leicester hastened to introduce him.
Violet bowed to the fair-haired Bertie and, after a glance of examination, felt that she liked him.
"Is it sympathy or antipathy?" murmured Leicester, who was near her.
Violet flushed slightly. "Neither," she retorted, in as low a voice.
"The trace is broken," said Bertie. "You cannot drive the little beggar any farther, Miss Mildmay."
"No," said Leicester, who seemed to have forgotten the ponies. "I will cut the connection, and divide the little rascals. You can then drive Master Spot home, and I can put Dot in my pocket."
Violet laughed.
"Really, it is a shame to give you so much trouble," she said. "Can you not tie him to a post? I can send Tom down for him!"
"It is no trouble," said Leicester politely. "And, what is more, we were coming up to the Park. My mother and father have driven over to pay you a visit; my friend and I were to accompany them, but we preferred walking, and arranged to meet them."
"I hope I shall get home before they have gone," said Violet. "At least, you will let me take one of you up?"
But they both declined, and Violet started, leaving Leicester and Bertie to follow with the rebellious Dot.
"Well," said Leicester, with his half cynical smile, as Bertie Fairfax looked after the disappearing phaeton. "I know you are dying to pronounce your opinion."
"I like her," said Bertie. "I think she's the most beautiful girl I've seen—bar one," he added, sotto voce, "and I like the candid, fearless look of her face. Those violet, velvet eyes, too."
"Nonsense, they're brown," said Leicester, but, although his voice was mocking, Bertie knew that his praises had pleased his friend.
"You evidently think as much of her yourself, mon ami," he said, significantly, "or you wouldn't drag that little beggar a mile and a half in a midsummer sun! Leicester's reformed! The bear is tamed!"
"Pshaw!" said Leicester. "Can't a man do a civil thing once in a way but all you young puppies must yelp at him?"
"Young!" retorted Bertie. "I like that, old Methuselah! Why, hang it, I'm older than you, if I haven't such a grim mug."
Leicester laughed.
"Then you've more years than sense, Bertie; so hold your tongue, and come on. I'd give a shilling for a bottle of Bass. If this little beggar were a hand smaller we'd tie his legs, sling him across your walking-stick, and carry him home in triumph like a dead rabbit."