But he could not see her that night. When he reached his quarters he sent a note to the hut saying that he was dining at mess, and would not be able to look in. He made another resolution, which appeared to him an admirable example of sacrifice, for there was a party to which Miss Arbuthnot was bidden and not the Leslies: he had intended to find himself there, and now resigned it.
Chapter Eighteen.
The result of Fenwick’s meditation might have been foreseen; he felt himself the injured person, and went resignedly to the hut on the following day, prepared to act with magnanimity. Claudia met him as simply as usual, showing no trace of displeasure. A close observer might, it is true, have noticed that she was both pale and heavy-eyed, but, except under the influence of a dominant personal interest, Fenwick was not a close observer, and he merely registered a mental note that her young beauty was of too variable a nature to be counted upon. His sister, however, quickly became aware that he was himself disturbed, and she took an opportunity of calling Claudia into the next room.
“Something has gone wrong with Arthur, I can see. I know his face so well! Do be careful what you say,” she added anxiously.
“Has anything gone wrong?” asked the girl, with a curious little laugh. “Well, don’t be afraid. Perhaps I can set it right.”
Mrs Leslie shook her head. She had no confidence in Claudia’s powers, and she dreaded beyond words, another eight days’ wonder over her brother’s love affairs. Major Leslie was waiting for her in the garden, and when she went out she was so full of her fears that she confided them, with signs towards the window.
“I am dreadfully afraid there is something in the wind. Arthur looks like a thundercloud.”
“Pleasant for her!” said little Major Leslie, whistling.