“Well, that’s it. Said he was tired of Weston’s cut, which made me think he must be a trifle above par. Well, I put it to you, Kit, that’s all you can think when a fellow says a thing like that!”
“What did he say about—about me?” demanded Kitty.
“Didn’t say anything about you. Asked me if I’d had a summons from the old gentleman. Told him I had, and he said I should on no account stay away. That’s why I settled not to come. Kept his mouth as prim as a pie, but you know the way he laughs with his eyes!”
The very thought of the way Mr. Westruther laughed with his eyes drew a deep sigh from Miss Charing. “Yes,” she said wistfully. For a moment she seemed inclined to sink into a reverie, but the melting mood was not of long duration. Once again Mr. Standen became the object of her penetrating gaze. “Did Jack— know —why he was sent for?” she asked.
“Carlton House to a Charley’s shelter he knew!” said Freddy. “That’s why he ain’t here, of course.”
Miss Charing stiffened. “You think so?” she said coldly.
“Not a doubt of it!” responded Freddy. “I must say, I call it a shabby thing to do! Might have told me what was in the wind. That’s Jack all over, though!”
Miss Charing accepted this unflattering speech meekly enough, but said, lifting her chin a little: “For my part, I am very glad he has not come. I should have thought very poorly of him had he obeyed such a command.”
“No fear of that,” said Freddy. “Very likely to have put up his back.”
“Yes, perhaps that was it!” said Kitty, brightening. “He is very proud, isn’t he, Freddy?”