“Has Tony been with you this afternoon?” she said. “Alice says she saw him about four o’clock, but no one has seen him since. He hasn’t come back, apparently.”
“No,” Maradick said, “I haven’t seen him since breakfast.”
She looked at him for a moment, and he felt that her look had something of reproach in it. He suddenly was conscious that he was, in their eyes at any rate, responsible for anything that Tony might do. He ought to have stood guard. And, after all, where had the boy been? He should have been back by now.
“It is really too bad,” Lady Gale said. “He knows that his father dislikes unpunctuality at meals above all things, and he has been late again and again just lately. I must speak to him. He’s later than ever to-night. Where did you see him, Alice?”
“Down on the sand. But he didn’t see me.” She spoke uneasily, and Maradick saw at once that she was keeping something back.
“He’s been going about with a Punch and Judy man recently,” said Mrs. Lester. “I have nothing to say against Punch and Judy men personally. I always want to stop in the street and watch; but as a continual companion——”
“This particular one,” said Maradick, “is especially nice, an awfully decent little fellow. I’ve talked to him several times. No, Lady Gale, I’m afraid my wife isn’t well enough to come down to-night. She’s had a bad headache all day. It’s this heat, I think.” He looked at her rather as a guilty schoolboy watches his master. He reproached himself for having left the boy alone during the whole day, and he began to be anxious on his own account. The situation was getting too much for his nerves. For the first time he considered Alice Du Cane. He had not thought of her as being very actively concerned in the business, but there was something in her face now that spoke of trouble. She was standing by the lamp nervously fingering some books at her side. The thought that she was in trouble touched him, and he began to feel the burden of the situation still more heavily upon him.
But he knew at once what it was that was troubling Lady Gale. It was Sir Richard. He had seen enough of that Gentleman to know that so long as superficial things were all right, so long as bells rang at the proper moment and everyone immediately concerned with him were respectful and decently dressed, he would ask no questions; but let him once begin to have suspicions that something was lacking in respect to himself and the family generally and nothing would hinder his irritable curiosity. He had probably begun already to ask questions about Tony. Here was a new element of danger.
The door opened and everyone turned eagerly towards it; it was Sir Richard and Rupert.
Rupert didn’t appear to be more concerned than was usual with him, but Sir Richard was evidently annoyed. He advanced into the room with his customary before-dinner manner, that of one about to lead a cavalry regiment to the charge.