“Now is the moment for Captain Staple!” he murmured. “Give me the reins!” She transferred them without protest to his hand, and the cob, obedient to a light signal, dropped to a walk. “That’s better,” said John. “What’s the fellow doing here, if he didn’t come to dangle after you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what brought either of them here! Since my grandfather was taken ill it is very quiet at Kellands. We don’t entertain, and—and there are no longer hunters in the stables. Not that my cousin would care for that: he is not a hunting man; but Coate talks a great deal about the runs he has enjoyed with all the best packs. I don’t know how that may be.”
“Nor I, indeed, and it would be unjust to hazard a guess, I expect,” the Captain said cheerfully.
“Well, he hasn’t the look of a Melton man, has he?”
“No. How came your cousin to make a friend of him?”
Her lip curled. “I daresay he could find no one better. Henry is the most miserable creature! My grandfather was used to call him a park-saunterer. Jermyn told me once that he was a pretty loose fish besides.” She saw a muscle twitch in the Captain’s cheek. “Don’t laugh at me! I warned you my language is unladylike!”
“Just so! In what way is Henry a loose fish? If he is a miserable creature, I take it he don’t go raking round the town?”
“Oh, no! But the people he knows are not at all the thing, and Jermyn said it was too bad he should be known to be his cousin, because he suspected him to be not over-particular in matters of play and pay.”
“That’s bad,” said John. “Does he pursue any gainful occupation, or is he a gentleman of means?”
“Well, I don’t think he’s very plump in the pocket, but he must have a competence, I suppose, for my uncle married a lady of moderate fortune, and he was their only child. At all events, he was never bred to any profession.”