“Because—because—well, you see the fellow’s a regular scamp—dangerous sort of a character, you know—been in prison for poaching, and that sort of thing.”
“But he’s such a patient model.”
“Model, eh? Not my idea of a model. Look here, if you want some one to sit, you shall have me.”
The conversation changed to the visit she had received that afternoon; and Glynne in her new excitement was rapturous about “dear Mrs Rolph,” but rather lukewarm about her niece, and Rolph noticed it.
“Madge nice to you?” he said.
“Your cousin? Oh, yes,” replied Glynne, thoughtfully. “She seemed rather shy and strange at first, but soon got over that. We have always been a little distant, for I think I was too quiet for her; but of course we shall be like sisters now.”
“H’m, yes, I suppose so. But Madge is rather a strange girl.”
The dinner passed off pretty well. Rolph drinking a good deal of the baronet’s favourite claret, and every now and then finding the major’s eyes fixed upon him in rather a searching way which he did not like; but on the whole, Major Day was pleasant and gentlemanly, and rather given to sigh on seeing how happy and bright his niece looked. When at last she rose during dessert, and Rolph opened the door for her to pass out to the drawing-room, he was obliged to own that they would make a handsome couple, and on seeing his brother’s inquiring glance, he nodded back to him, making Sir John look pleased.
“I’ve no right to object if they are satisfied,” he said to himself; “but he is not the fellow I should have chosen.”
All the same, he shook hands warmly enough when Rolph left that night.