On the present occasion, Mrs. Lovelace being out of sight and hearing, he decided to risk detection, and, leaving his cap on a peg in the dark oak passage, he passed on to the room overlooking the downs and the distant sea in which he had once entertained Bunny and his sister.
Breakfast would be awaiting him, he knew; and he was more than ready for breakfast. In fact he was ravenously hungry, and he hastened to hide the offending gaiters under the spotless table-doth as soon as he had rung the bell for the dish which was being kept hot for him.
When Mrs. Lovelace came stoutly in, he greeted her with a smile. "I'm late this morning. Been having a tussle with one of the youngsters. No, don't put that whip away! It wants a new lash. What a cussed nuisance this rain is! The ground is a quagmire, and the animals can hardly keep their feet. Any letters?"
"One, sir," said Mrs. Lovelace, and laid it before him. Then she looked at him searchingly. "Did you get very muddy?" she enquired.
"What?" said Jake. He took up his letter. "Yes, you can take the cover. No, leave the coffee! I'll pour that out when I'm ready. Muddy? Look out of the window, my good woman, if you want to know! Don't wait! Time's precious, and I guess you're busy."
Again he smiled upon Mrs. Lovelace, his pleasant, candid smile; and Mrs. Lovelace had perforce to smile back and withdraw.
Jake heaved a sigh of relief, and began his breakfast. His letter, bearing a purple crest of a fox's head and under it the motto: Sans Vertu, lay on the table before him. He eyed it as he ate, and presently took it up. It bore a Swiss stamp.
Jake opened it and read:
"DEAR BOLTON,
"I meant to winter in Cairo, and heaven alone knows why I am here. It is fiendishly cold, and blowing great guns. There was skating when I arrived, but that is a dream of the oast. We now slop about knee-deep in slush or play cat's cradle in the salon during the day. We dance or cuddle in corners practically all night. Some of the female portion of the community are quite passably attractive, but I always preferred one goddess to a crowd, and she is not to be found here. Unless it freezes within the next forty-eight hours, I shall come back to beastly old England and look for her. So if I should turn up at Burchester within the next few days, please accept this (the only) intimation and have the stud ready for inspection.