“Nonsense!” cried the son of the house, leaning toward Austin. “We can’t let you go—that’s all there is about it. Ned here is off in the morning, and—and we can’t afford to lose anyone else. Can we, mother?”
By now Mrs. Thorburn had recovered somewhat from her momentary surprise. Once more beaming amiably, she shook a finger at Austin in playful sternness. “I protest,” she said. “No, no, you can’t go. We all protest. Dorothy——”
“Yes, indeed,” chimed in the girl, but with illy feigned enthusiasm. “Why—why should you go?”
“I’ve got such a lot to do,” explained Austin. “You know Thomas—the man that’s been with me such a long time. He’s just been married, and I want to attend to a wedding-present for him.”
“The idea of your hurrying away to look after a servant’s comfort,” cooed Mrs. Thorburn, “when you need rest so badly yourself.”
“I think you’re right,” admitted Austin, airily. “I’m not as young as I was once.”
“Not so young!” repeated Mrs. Thorburn. “Oh, how ridiculous!” And, “Bosh!” added Hal. But Dorothy said nothing, only coloured, as if in guilt. Ned was watching her, his boyish face set, his eyes half closed. The Lamberts alone were concerned with their luncheon. Miss Scott was all attention. Her sharp chin was up, her sharper eyes travelling alertly.
“Yes, not so young,” continued Austin, jovially. “In fact, I’m nothing less than an old gentleman.” He gave a hearty laugh.
Mrs. Thorburn shifted uneasily. His demeanour had in it an entirely strange note. The subdued, seemingly pliable Austin she understood. But what of this new one, changed all at once—more youthful, cheery and dominating?
“You know, these two weeks, I’ve had time to take stock of myself,” Austin continued. “I was in a groove. Well, travelling over these hills has taught me the value of change and recreation. I’m going back to town to settle things up so that I can get away to Europe for a long vacation. I’m afraid that means more work for you, Ned.”