“But, father, think of the crush getting off the boat,” he said. “The chances are that Colin won’t see your chauffeur.”
He spoke with an impatient anger which he could not cloak, and which rang out unmistakably in his voice.
“We’ll take the off chance then,” said his father.
Raymond got up. “Just as you like,” he said.
Philip paused a moment. The relations between himself and Raymond had been excellent up till to-day. Raymond without charm (which was not his fault), had been pleasant and agreeable, but now this matter of meeting Colin had produced a spirit of jealous temper.
“Naturally I shall do just as I like,” he observed. “Ring the bell, please, Raymond. The motor will have to start at once.”
Though none of the three communicated the news of Colin’s arrival to old Lady Yardley, it somehow got round to her, via perhaps, some servant’s gossip about a motor going to Dover, and most unusually she came downstairs at tea-time with inquiries whether Colin had arrived. It was soon clear that he could not have caught the early boat, or he would have been here by now, and thus three hours at least must elapse before his arrival could be looked for, but in spite of this, old Lady Yardley did not go back to her room again, but remained upright and vigilant in her chair on the terrace, where they had had tea, looking out over the plain where, across the gardens and lake, appeared glimpses of the road along which the motor must come.
Philip had intended to go for a ride, but he, too, when his servant told him that his horse was round, lingered on and shewed no sign of moving. Neither he nor his mother gave any reason for their remaining so unusually here, but somehow the cause of it was common property. Colin was coming. Raymond, similarly, had announced his intention of going to bathe, but had not gone; instead he fidgeted in his chair, smoked, took up and dropped the evening paper, and made aimless little excursions up and down the terrace. His restlessness got on his father’s nerves.
“Well, go and bathe, if you mean to, Raymond,” he said, “or if you like take my horse and go for a ride. But, for goodness’ sake, don’t keep jumping about like that.”
“Thanks, I think I won’t ride, father,” he said. “I shall be having a bathe presently. Or would you feel inclined for a game of tennis, Vi?”