But the cement of their years of frictionless companionship still held, and could not be broken in a moment. Dick also took a chair. "Well, if you didn't know——" he said rather grudgingly.
"No, I didn't know, and I'm sorry," said Humphrey; "the governor won't hold out, Dick; he's only got to see her."
It was the best thing he could have said. Dick was inwardly gratified, and some of his resentment departed. "You needn't say anything unless he opens the subject," he said. "But——"
"Oh, I know what to say if he does," said Humphrey. "I say, Dick, old chap, is it a case?"
Dick was not at all ready for this—from Humphrey, although if Walter had asked him he might have admitted how much of a case it was, and gained some contentment by talking it over. "I like her, of course," he said, somewhat impatiently; "I've never disguised it. I suppose one is permitted to make friendship with women occasionally?"
"Oh yes," said Humphrey, with rather elaborate unconcern. Then Dick said he was going up to dress, and left the room without further word, while Humphrey sat a while longer looking at the fire and turning things over in his mind.
Over the dinner-table that evening there was talk of the forthcoming Hunt Ball, and the one or two others which made the week after Christmas a short season of gaiety in South Meadshire. The Birketts were coming to stay for them, the Judge and his wife and unmarried daughter, and his other daughter, Lady Senhouse, with her husband. These were the only guests invited so far, and the Squire, who liked a little bustle of gaiety about him now and again, said that they must ask one or two more people.
"We shall be unusually gay this year," he said, "with the ball for Grace at Kemsale, which is sure to be well done. We must take a good party over from Kencote. Who can we ask?"
It was a somewhat extraordinary thing that a question like that could not easily be answered at Kencote. The Squire very seldom left home, Mrs. Clinton practically never, and in the course of years the families from whom they could draw for visitors had dwindled down to those of relations and county neighbours. The Squire was quite satisfied with this state of things. There were plenty of people about him with whom he could shoot, and who would shoot with him; and an occasional dinner party was all or more than he wanted in the way of indoor sociability—that, and this yearly little group of balls, the Hunt Ball, the Bathgate Ball, and whatever might be added to them from one or other of the big houses round. Kencote had never been one of those houses. Its women had never been considered of enough importance to make the trouble and expense of ball-giving worth while, and the men could get all the balls they wanted elsewhere. Before Cicely was married her brothers had generally brought a few men down for these local gaieties, but for the past two years there had been no party from Kencote.
"I think Lady Aldeburgh would bring Susan Clinton if you were to ask her," said Humphrey. "In fact, I'm pretty sure she would."