As Captain Waring watched him hurrying towards his waiting pony, mounting and galloping away up the compound, he said to himself as he deliberately struck a fusee—
“Well, Clarence Waring, I think you got considerably the best of that bargain! You have the brains; and if you had money and opportunity, you could do great things!” Nevertheless, he took up the revolver, and looked at it with a sober face ere he returned it to the table-drawer.
CHAPTER XXIV.
“SWEET PRIMROSE IS COMING!”
Captain Waring had gone down the hill, gallantly escorting Mrs. Atherton and Miss Potter, and followed by an innumerable retinue of servants, ponies, and baggage.
He left a blank behind him—also an unpaid mess bill. His square shoulders, broad smile, and loud voice were missed in the club, verandah, and elsewhere.
He was coming back to settle up his bills, he declared, “and he left his cousin in pawn,” he added with a hearty laugh.
“Sara,” said her husband, coming in from his dressing-room, lathering his face—he was always clean-shaven, and looked twenty-five at a distance—“Waring is off. That young Jervis is all by himself; he has a broken wrist, and can’t play polo or tennis. Why on earth don’t you have him up here?”
“’Ark at the man!” appealing to Ben, who squatted beside her, helping her to dispose of her buttered toast. Mrs. Brande was seated at a little table in her own room, clad in a gorgeous dressing-gown, and partaking of chotah hazree. “Haven’t I asked him till I am tired? I’ve written to him, and gone to his house, and it’s all no use.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” rejoined her lord and master. “That is to say—I must admit that women are sharper in these ways than we are—if you think it’s all right, and there is no chance of his making a fool of himself with Honor? No fear of his falling in love, eh?” And as he calmly awaited her reply, he resumed operations with the shaving-brush.
“In love with Honor! Ha! ha! that is a good idea! If he is in love with any one it’s with me—so don’t say I did not put you on your guard! Honor, bless your dear simple old heart! why, they see precious little of one another, thanks to you, who always carry him off to tennis or to talk; and when they are together, as well as I can make out, they are fighting most of the time!”