"I'll come in with you."
"As you like."
They parted at the visitor's door.
"You'll disappoint me cruel if you do go," said Jack, shaking hands. "I'm quite sure you're mistaken about my friends; Olivia, for one, thinks no end of you. However, as you say, we can talk it over in the morning—when you've got to see the pictures as well, and don't you forget it! So long, sir, till then."
"So long, Jack. I'll be your man in the morning, at all events. And I shall look forward to a great treat in your famous picture-gallery."
But Jack was engaged; and he realised it in the morning as he had not done before. Olivia lured him from the squatter's side; she had every intention of so doing. The pair went for a little stroll. Neither wore a watch; the little stroll lengthened into miles; it carried them beyond the sound of the stable clock; they forgot the world, and were absurdly late for lunch. Lady Caroline Sellwood had taken it upon herself to conduct the meal without them. Dalrymple was in his place; his expression was grimly cynical; he had seen the pictures, under Claude Lafont's skilled escort, and, with the ladies' permission, he would now leave the table, as he had still to put in his things.
His things! Was he going, then? Jack's knife and fork fell with a clatter.
"I thought you knew," said Claude. "He is going up to town by the afternoon train. I have ordered the landau, as I thought you would like him to go as he came."
When Jack heard this he, too, left the table, and bounded upstairs. He found Dalrymple on the point of packing his dress-clothes, with the assistance of none other than Stebbings. Jack glared at the disrated butler, and ordered him out of the room.
"I wouldn't have done that," remarked the squatter, pausing in his work. "The fellow came to know if he could do anything for me, with tears in his eyes, and he has made me a handsome apology. He didn't ask me to beg him off, but I mean to try my luck in that way before I go."