This luncheon was eaten on the top of the duke's coach, and it happened that the next coach but one belonged to Scaife's father. John could just see Scaife's handsome head, and Cæsar sitting beside him. The boys nodded to each other, and the Etonians asked questions. At the name of Scaife, however, the young Kinlochs curled contemptuous lips.
"Unspeakable bounder, old Scaife, isn't he?" they asked; and the duchess replied—
"My dears, his cheques are honoured to any amount, even if he isn't."
Her laughter tinkled delightfully; but John reflected that Desmond was eating the Scaife food and drinking the Scaife wine—all bought with ill-gotten gold.
Later in the afternoon it became evident that the Scaife champagne was flowing freely. To John's dismay, the Harrovians (including Cæsar) on the top of the Scaife coach became noisy. The Caterpillar and his father, Colonel Egerton, sauntered up, and were invited by the duke to rest and refresh themselves. John was amused to note that the colonel was even a greater buck than his son. He quite cut out the poor old Caterpillar, challenging and monopolizing the attention of all who beheld him.
"Those boys are makin' the devil of a row," said the colonel, fixing his eyeglass. "Ah, the Scaifes! A man I know dined with them last week. He reported everything overdone, except the food. Their chef is Marcobruno, you know."
Presently, to John's relief, Desmond left the Scaifes and joined the Trent party, upon whom his gay, radiant face and charming manners made a most favourable impression. He laughed at the duchess's stories, and made love to her quite unaffectedly. The Etonians looked rather glum, because their wickets were falling faster than had been expected. Desmond told the duke, in answer to a question, that his father was in his seat in the pavilion, with his eyes glued to the pitch.
"He's awfully keen," said Cæsar.
"You boys are not so keen as we were," said the duke, nodding reflectively.
"Oh, but we are, sir—indeed we are," said Cæsar. "Aren't we, Caterpillar?"