"After lunch I shall call for him and take him for a little walk. If you'd seen him when he got to the Bel-Air after toiling up the Creux Road! He was nearly in pieces. I'll trot him round to the Vicarage, and then to the Seigneurie, and then I'll bring him here and turn him over to you and Hennie Penny. He'll be as limp as a rag by that time, and as wax in your hands."
Nevertheless, Margaret could not quite get rid of the feeling of discomfort which the news of Charles Pixley's arrival had cast over her, and Graeme anathematised that young man most fervently each time he glanced at her face.
XIII
After lunch Graeme went back to the hotel, and found Pixley lolling on the seat outside, in a much more contented frame of mind than on his first arrival.
"You were right as to their lobsters, anyhow, Graeme," he said. "They're almost worth coming all the way for."
"All right. Now if you're rested we'll go for a stroll, and I'll set your mind at rest as to to-morrow. Then you'll be able to enjoy your dinner in a proper frame of mind."
"How far is it?"
"Just up there and round the corner. We'll see the Vicar first and you can try your hand on him."
The Vicar received them with jovial bonhomie.
"Ah-ha! The bridegroom cometh out of his chamber! And your friend? He is the best man—no?"