"You are proud of your son, Mr. Linton," said Tait genially.
"Without doubt! Without doubt! The book he wrote is clever, although I do not care for sensational writing myself."
"It pays. The taste of the age is in the direction of sensationalism."
"Certainly, certainly. And I suppose it is only natural that Francis should write some frivolity. He was never a deep scholar. What does astonish me," added the vicar, raising his eyebrows, "is that a student like Mr. Paynton should desire to read the book."
Tait and Claude glanced at one another with the same thought in their minds respecting this information. Informed by Hilliston of the use made by Linton of the Larcher affair, Paynton was anxious to see in what light the case had been placed. This curiosity argued that the recluse had been one of the actors in the tragedy; if so, he could only be Jeringham, since Captain Larcher was dead, and they knew both Denis Bantry and Francis Hilliston. The vicar, worthy man, was quite ignorant of the effect produced by this announcement; nor was he undeceived by the artful reply of Tait.
"Naturally Mr. Paynton wants to read the book," said the latter diplomatically. "If I mistake not, he has a great liking for Frank."
"Indeed, yes," responded Mr. Linton thankfully. "He taught Francis Latin along with Jenny. He would have made a scholar of him. I am indeed sorry that my son failed to profit by his association with so brilliant a student. He might have written a better book."
Clearly the vicar was by no means impressed with the sensationalism of "A Whim of Fate," and would rather his son had written an honest pamphlet or a grave tragedy than have produced so meretricious a piece of three-volume frivolity. However, he had no time to talk further on this matter, for as he ended his speech the subject of it entered the room with Jenny and Mrs. Linton. The former started and flushed as she saw Claude, and remembered his romantic history and their former meeting.
"My wife, Mr. Larcher. You know Mr. Tait of course, my dear. Miss Paynton, Mr. Larcher, and my son."
"I have already had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Frank Linton in town," said Claude, holding out his hand. The young author took it willingly enough, and then the company resolved itself into two groups; the vicar and his wife conversing with Tait, while Claude, seconded by Frank, made himself agreeable to Jenny. Neither the lady nor the author were pleased with this arrangement, as the former felt uneasy when she remembered her father's position, while the latter felt jealous of Claude's superior good looks. Frank Linton was, of course, ignorant that he was in the company of the son of the Horriston victim; he did not even know the names of the people or that of the place, and had simply written the story on the meager information afforded by Jenny. He could not, therefore, understand the interest which those two displayed in one another, and so grew jealous on seeing it.