"My friend Taylor motoring to Edinburgh to-day. Will pick you and luggage up at Manse about six, and bring you to my house. Don't trouble reply, assume this suits, shall be out till late. DRUMMOND."
"There's no answer," said Mr Burnett with a smile.
He was delighted with this change in his programme, and at once countermanded his trap, and ordered Mary to set about making scones and a currant cake for tea.
"This Mr Taylor will surely be wanting his tea before he starts," said he, "though it's likely he won't want to waste too much time over it, or it will be dark long before we get to Edinburgh. So have everything ready, Mary, but just the infusing of the tea."
Then with an easy mind, feeling that there was no hurry now, he sat down to his early dinner. As he dined he studied the telegram more carefully, and it was then that one or two slight peculiarities struck him. They seemed to him very trifling, but they set him wondering and smiling a little to himself.
He knew most of the Drummonds' friends, and yet never before had he heard of an affluent motor-driving Mr Taylor among them. Still, there was nothing surprising about that, for one may make a new friend any day, and one's old friends never hear of him for long enough.
The really unusual features about this telegram were its length and clearness and the elaborate injunctions against troubling to answer it.
Robert Drummond was an excellent and Christian man, but he had never been remarkable for profuse expenditure. In fact, he guarded his bawbees very carefully indeed, and among other judicious precautions he never sent telegrams if he could help it, and when fate forced his hand, kept very rigorously within the twelve-word limit. His telegrams in consequence were celebrated more for their conciseness than their clarity. Yet here he was sending a telegram thirty-four words long, apart from the address and signature, and spending halfpenny after halfpenny with reckless profusion to make every detail explicit!
Particularly curious were the three clauses all devoted to saving Mr Burnett the trouble of replying. Never before had Mr Drummond shown such extraordinary consideration for a friend's purse, and it is a discouraging feature of human nature that even the worthy Mr Burnett felt more puzzled than touched by his generous thoughtfulness.
"Robert Drummond never wrote out that wire himself," he concluded. "He must just have told some one what he wanted to say, and they must have written it themselves. Well, we'll hope they paid for it too, or Robert will be terrible annoyed."