“Certainly, I quite understand, my dear fellow,” Tennington had replied. “But you are to be congratulated—ripping girl, don’t you know—really.”
The next day it came. Mrs. Strong, Hazel, and Monsieur Thuran were Lord Tennington’s guests aboard his yacht. Mrs. Strong had been telling them how much she had enjoyed her visit at Cape Town, and that she regretted that a letter just received from her attorneys in Baltimore had necessitated her cutting her visit shorter than they had intended.
“When do you sail?” asked Tennington.
“The first of the week, I think,” she replied.
“Indeed?” exclaimed Monsieur Thuran. “I am very fortunate. I, too, have found that I must return at once, and now I shall have the honor of accompanying and serving you.”
“That is nice of you, Monsieur Thuran,” replied Mrs. Strong. “I am sure that we shall be glad to place ourselves under your protection.” But in the bottom of her heart was the wish that they might escape him. Why, she could not have told.
“By Jove!” ejaculated Lord Tennington, a moment later. “Bully idea, by Jove!”
“Yes, Tennington, of course,” ventured Clayton; “it must be a bully idea if you had it, but what the deuce is it? Goin’ to steam to China via the south pole?”
“Oh, I say now, Clayton,” returned Tennington, “you needn’t be so rough on a fellow just because you didn’t happen to suggest this trip yourself—you’ve acted a regular bounder ever since we sailed.
“No, sir,” he continued, “it’s a bully idea, and you’ll all say so. It’s to take Mrs. Strong and Miss Strong, and Thuran, too, if he’ll come, as far as England with us on the yacht. Now, isn’t that a corker?”