“That blackguard regularly frightened Ju. She hasn’t looked the same girl since.”
“No,” said Cyril. “Pity the shooting season’s over.”
“Why?”
“We might have peppered the blackguard by accident if he had shown himself here again.”
“Master would like to see you, sir, in my mistress’s room,” said the butler, entering the study where the young men were smoking.
“Oh, all right, I’ll come,” said Cyril, impatiently. “Hang it, Frank, if you were half a brother you’d go halves with me, and take me back to your place. I’m sick of this life. There’s a lecture about something, I suppose.”
“Caning, I should think,” said Frank, with a sneering laugh. “There, go and get it over; and look here, I’ll give up Lewby to-day, and drive over with you to Gatley. Let’s get a game at billiards and dine with Artingale. It’s no use to have a lord after your sister if you don’t make use of him.”
“All right. No. I’ve an engagement to-night.”
“Go and keep it then, and be hanged. I shall go to Lewby,” growled Frank.
“Blackberrying?” sneered Cyril. “I say, mind you don’t ‘Rue’ going.”