“Mrs. Gladwyne is a remarkably fine lady, but it’s unfortunate that she’s a little deaf and—it must be owned—not particularly intelligent. A good deal of what goes on escapes her. Besides, she has always idolized Clarence, and that would account for her not seeing his friends’ failings.”
“It’s curious that Gladwyne makes so much of that young Crestwick.”
“I’ve wondered about it,” Nasmyth confessed. “The lad’s vicious—and I’ve an idea that the influence Clarence has over him isn’t beneficial. In fact, I’m sorry for his sister. She has been given her head too young, but, in my opinion, the girl’s the pick of a very indifferent bunch.”
“But you haven’t accounted for these people’s desire to be on good terms with Gladwyne.”
Nasmyth hesitated.
“Oh, well, since you’re so persistent, the Crestwicks have evidently been left with ample means, acquired by their parents, not much education, and big ambitions. They can get into certain circles, but that won’t content them, and other doors, which Gladwyne can open to them, are shut. After all, he’s a good sportsman, a man of some culture, with a manner that’s likely to impress such people. The lad’s holding on to him and taking his worst aspect for a copy, while Clarence seems willing to extend his patronage.”
“For some consideration?”
Nasmyth looked disturbed.
“It’s unpleasant, but I can’t help feeling that you’re right. One way or another, young Crestwick will have to pay his entrance fees.” He rose and stretched himself lazily. “I’ll spoil my temper if I say any more about it, and as we’ve had a long day I’m off to bed.”
Lisle followed him from the room, but he was up early the next morning and strolled down to the river while the light was creeping across the moors and the dew lay thick upon the grass, thinking over what he had heard on the previous night. It was his nature to be interested in almost everything and he was curious to learn what he could of the people to whom his father had belonged. In Canada he had, for the most part, met only men of somewhat primitive habits and simple desires, grappling with rock and forest, or with single purpose toiling to acquire wealth in the new cities. What was more to the purpose, few of them were married. Now he was thrown among a people not more intelligent—indeed, he thought they were less endowed with practically useful knowledge—but in some respects more complex, actuated by different and less obvious ambitions and desires. He felt impelled to watch them, though he recognized that, as Nasmyth had predicted, this might not be all. It was possible that sooner or later he would be drawn into action.