Jawn whistled.
“Here’s a pretty mess!” said he; “here’s a how d’ you do! Let’s get this straight, young man; do you mean to tell us that——”
“S-sh!” warned Richard.
Mrs. Wells had dismissed George Alexander, and was turning inquiringly upon the group.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. The sudden silence had attracted her attention.
Richard stepped quickly into the breach. “Walter thinks he has the fastest boat on the Lake,” he explained, and went into a voluble tribute to Sago-ye-wat-ha.
“Why, Richard!” Mrs. Wells interrupted. “How red your face is!”
“He’s blushing for shame,” said Jawn, “for shame at the thought of how easy it’ll be to take the cup away from those other poor yachtsmen. And well you may, Richard! And well you may!”
Richard’s blushes threatened to be permanent. Throughout the luncheon and several hours afterward he glowed like a burning sumac bush. While anything from Walter should be taken with something more than the proverbial grain of salt, yet he had succeeded in producing a most confusing mental state in Richard. Jawn’s gentle raillery after luncheon did nothing to help matters, and all of Richard’s many explanations of the possible twist in Walter’s meaning merely added further confusion.
He sought an excuse early to be alone, and for an hour or two hovered about the house waiting for Jerry to appear. Some of his lost shyness came back to benumb him and prevent his sending for her outright. Indeed, once when he thought he heard her coming down the stairs he grew so fearful of meeting her that he slipped out of a rear door and fled into a path that led to the garden.