“Yes, I should have gone back before now,” repeated Philip. “I sha’n’t stay on after you leave. It’ll be too dismal all round. By Jove! I don’t see why—er—why we shouldn’t go back together. It would be awfully jolly for me having some one to travel with, and I could help you looking after the boxes and things—eh, Mrs Daventer?”
“But what about your friend, Mr Orlebar? He doesn’t want to go back yet; and, even if he did, I think I see him travelling with a pair of unprotected females.”
“Fordham? Oh, he and Wentworth have got together now, and they’ll be swarming up every blessed alp within fifty miles around before they think of moving from here. No; on the whole I think my escort may be of use to you—in fact, I think you ought to have it.”
“I believe ours is far more likely to be of use to you—in your present state,” answered Mrs Daventer, with a smile. “Well, Mr Orlebar, I was going to ask you to spend a few days with us on your return, and if you care to do so, you may as well come straight home with us now—that is, of course, unless you have anything more important or attractive among your plans.”
But this he eagerly protested he had not. Nothing would give him greater pleasure, and so on.
“Ours is a very quiet little place on the Welsh coast,” went on Mrs Daventer. “I don’t know how we shall amuse you—or rather how you will amuse yourself.”
Here again Philip raised his voice in protest. He did not want amusing. He was sure it would be quite delightful. He was tired of the abominable racket of hotel life. Quiet, and plenty of it, was just the thing he wanted. It would do him more good than anything else in the world.
“Well, then, we may look upon that as settled,” was the gracious rejoinder—and Mrs Daventer could be very gracious, very fascinating, when she chose. “If you are half as pleased with your stay as we shall be to have you, we shall consider ourselves fortunate. And now, Laura, I think we had better be turning back. I really must put in an appearance at church this afternoon, especially as I missed it this morning and last Sunday as well.”
The girl’s face clouded. “Why, mother, the best part of the afternoon is only just beginning,” she objected. “Such a heavenly afternoon as it is, too.”
“Let church slide, Mrs Daventer,” urged Phil, impulsively. “Besides, if you’re going away what does it matter!”