"TRULY?"
He flushed and muttered an oath. She understood. He had been "kicked out!"
"Hello!" called out a sprightly voice from the gathering darkness, and the next moment Leslie joined them. "Have dinner with us to-night, Hetty? Just the three of us. Please do."
"No, thank you, Mr. Wrandall. I am getting ready to leave to-morrow. Packing and all that sort of thing."
"Did Colonel Castleton tell you that I'm off for New York on Saturday? Mother and Viv are to get the boat at Southampton. I thought you'd be interested to know what's just turned up over there?"
"What has happened?" she cried quickly.
Leslie hesitated. A curious gleam stole into his eyes. Was it of triumph?
"Father's got rather old-fashioned ideas about certain things," he observed, by way of preface. "He writes that Sara is contemplating a second venture into the state of wedded bliss."
Hetty stared at him. "I—I don't believe it," she said flatly. "How can it be possible? She sees no one."
He laughed. "You're wrong there," said he mendaciously. "She's been seeing a great deal of a certain mutual friend of ours—all summer long."
"You mean?"
"Brandon Booth. Father says that rumour has it they are to be married after the holidays. I fancy he needed consolation, after what happened to him earlier in the year. He was pretty hard hit, believe me." After a moment, he went on boldly: "I ought to be in a position to sympathise with him, I suppose, but I don't. It isn't in me to—"
"You say they are to be married?" cried Hetty, dazed and bewildered.
They had fallen behind Colonel Castleton, who walked on stiffly ahead of them.
Leslie treated her to his most engaging smile.
"Looks very Goochy, doesn't it? I'm coming to believe more than ever that blood will tell. Sara knew what she was doing when she cleared her decks for action a few months ago. 'Gad, I understand now why she was so eager to bring off the—well, another match we know about. Pretty canny, eh?"
"It is incredible," said she, with unnecessary vehemence.
"Not in the least. Clever person, Sara is. Sets her heart on a thing, and—woof! she gets it, whether or no. Now, don't misunderstand me. I'm fond of Brandon Booth. We all are. We don't object to him as a sort of family attachment. But if she's going to marry him, we want to know where we stand in a business way. You see, he will not only step into my brother Chal's shoes at home, but at the office. And, heaven knows, Brandy is not a good business man. He's great on portraits, but—I beg pardon!"
"I must leave you here, Mr. Wrandall. Good-bye!"
"Oh, I say, can't we see something of—"
"I am afraid not."
He kept pace with her through the hall.
"I suppose your father told you that I—I haven't altogether given up hope of—you."
"He spoke of going to America with you, if that's what you mean," she said coldly, and left him at the foot of the staircase.
Leslie's hand trembled as it went up to his moustache. "I can't understand her beastly obstinacy," he said to himself.