"Um—I think I know him. Thank you, that will do. By the way, I'm expecting some friends to lunch. Captain and Mrs. Leroy—and Mr. D'Arcy. You know him, don't you?"
"D'Arcy? Aye, I mind him fine. A fat yin, wi' a lum hat tied up wi' string. A popish-lookin' body," commented Mr. Goble sorrowfully.
He retired downstairs, to ponder upon the dubiety of the company into which his employer appeared to be drifting, and Hughie returned to his letters.
The sight of the next caused him to glow suddenly, for on the back of the envelope he observed the address of Joan's flat. But he cooled when he turned it round and read the superscription. It was in the handwriting of the lady with whom Joan shared the flat.
"Dear Mr. Marrable [it said],—
"Joan and I are coming to call on you to-morrow about twelve—"
"They'd better stay to lunch." Hughie touched the bell and continued,—
"Dear Joan is very young in some ways, and she has no idea of the value of money; but since talking the matter over with me recently, she would like to have a few words with you about her financial position.
"How delightful to see the leaves coming out again!—Believe me, yours sincerely,
"Ursula Harbord."
"'Dear Joan would like'—would she?" commented Hughie. "I'm afraid it's Ursula Harbord I'm going to have the few words with, though. Hades!"
He rose and crossed the room to the fireplace, where he kicked the coals with unnecessary violence. Then he sighed heavily, and picked up a photograph which stood upon the mantelpiece.
Joan had spoken nothing but the truth when she told Hughie that he would discover his true feelings as soon as he found himself away from her. For six or eight months he had gone about his day's work with the thoroughness and determination of his nature. He had administered the little estate of Manors, was beginning to dabble in politics, had taken up rowing again, and was trying to interest himself generally in the course of life to which he had looked forward so eagerly on his travels. He had even tried conclusions with a few débutantes who had been introduced to his notice by business-like Mammas. But whatever his course of life, his thoughts and desires persisted in centring round a single object,—a very disturbing and elusive object,—and try as he would, he failed to derive either pleasure or profit from his present existence.