It was innocent enough, but Lisle fancied that there was sufficient flattery in the speech to incite the headstrong lad, who had now emptied the glass at his hand. He remembered that on another occasion when there had been a good deal at stake, Batley had played on Crestwick’s feelings, though in a slightly different manner. Whether or not the young man lost more than he could afford was, in one way, no concern of Lisle’s, and he did not find him in the least attractive; but half an hour previously Bella had met him in the hall and had hinted, with a troubled look, that she would appreciate it if he could get her brother away. It was this that accounted for the Canadian’s presence in the card-room.
“I’m going, anyway,” he said, taking out some notes and gold and laying them down. “There has been a smart shower and you had better remember that Miss Leslie walked over—the roads will be wet. As you know, I promised to take the girls back in Nasmyth’s trap, and he won’t thank me if I keep his groom up.”
Crestwick grumbled and hesitated, and he grew rather red in face as he turned to Batley.
“I’ve only these two notes,” he explained. “Expected all along I’d pull up even. Will you arrange things? See you about it when I come back.”
Batley nodded carelessly, and the lad stood up, looking irresolutely at the table.
“Fact is,” he went on, “I’d like to get straight before I go. I’m in pretty heavy for one night; another round might do something to set me straight.”
“Gladwyne and I are quite willing to give you your chance,” was Batley’s quick reply; but Lisle unceremoniously laid his hand on Crestwick’s shoulder.
“Come along,” he urged, laughing. “Luck’s against you; you’ve had quite enough.”
He had the lad out of the door in another moment, and looking back from the landing he saw a curious look in Gladwyne’s face which he thought was one of disgust. Batley, however, was frowning openly; and the two men’s expressions had a meaning for him. He was inclined to wonder whether he had used force too ostensibly in ejecting the lad; but, after all, that did not very much matter—his excuse was good enough. As they went down the stairs, Crestwick turned to him, hot and angry.
“It strikes me you’re pretty officious! Never saw you until two or three weeks ago,” he muttered. “Not accustomed to being treated in that offhand manner. It’s Colonial, I suppose!”