The opportunity which Tab had wanted.
“Your adored one is my adored one,” he said quietly. “I am going to marry Ursula Ardfern.”
Rex fell into the nearest chair, looking at him with eyes and mouth wide open.
“You lucky dog!” he said at last, and then he came to his feet with his hand outflung. “I go away on a holiday and you steal my beloved,” he said, wringing Tab’s hand. “No, I am not feeling at all bad about it—you are a lucky man. We must have a bottle on this.”
Tab was relieved, to an extent greater than he had anticipated. He had rather dreaded telling the love-sick youth that the object of his passion had agreed to bestow herself upon the best friend of the man who was responsible for their meeting.
“You are going to tell me all about this,” said Rex, busy with the wire-cutters, “and of course, I’ll be your best man and take in hand the arrangements for the swellest wedding this little village has seen in years,” he babbled on and Tab was glad to let him talk.
Presently they came back to the subject of the house. Rex made no attempt to hide his disappointment that the ideal site was taken.
“I should have given it to you, old man,” he said impulsively, “what a wedding gift for a pal! But you shall have a house that is worthy of you, if I have to build the darned thing myself! As an architect I am a failure,” he went on, “my views are too eccentric. Poor old Stott swooned at the sight of some of my designs,” he chuckled to himself. “I’m not going to give up the attempt to carry my great idea into effect,” he told Tab at parting, “I shall see Yeh Ling at the earliest opportunity. I may be able to persuade him to sell.”
Tab went down to Hertford the next afternoon and never had his bicycle moved more leisurely.
“I told Rex,” he blurted out and he saw her face fall.