Gardiner nodded.
"And who's payin' for Hunt?"
Gardiner took him by the greasy lapel of his coat.
"I'll tell you—it's Gawthrop!"
Gardiner, who was doing the dramatic criticism for the Chronicle that night, saw Gawthrop and Hunt in Miss Atherton's box at the Opera House. They appeared to be on very good terms, and were both in an excellent humour. For all that he had planned, George Gardiner was in no great good temper when he imagined that Edith showed more favour to Sibley than to his rival.
"He's not a bad sort, but he's not the sort to marry a girl like that," said Gardiner; "if she only knew the life he has led, she'd give him the mitten right off. And I could let her know. It's doing him a favour to send him to sea. And as for Hunt, he's really mean. Life won't be all pie to him as he's laid it out to be. She'll think they've shied off, and will be mad, and more ready to listen to a man who has loved her for years, as she knows. If she'd only take me while I'm poor, I'd be the proudest man in California. And wouldn't it make all California sick!"
Though he did not know it, both Gawthrop and Hunt played into his hands. Each was quite convinced that he was the favoured lover, and as they both had a secret they used it when they got a chance.
"Gawthrop is a very nice fellow," said Jack Hunt condescendingly; "but he never knows his own mind, Miss Atherton. I should never be surprised to hear he had gone to Europe. He's fond of travel, and very, very inconstant."
"Indeed," said Edith. She had found him fairly persevering. It was strange when Hunt was called outside for a few minutes that Gawthrop, who this night had shown no jealousy, threw out a dark hint that Hunt was no true Californian.
"I shouldn't be in the least surprised to hear he had gone to Europe," he said. "He's very flighty. I suppose that is the reason he didn't marry while he was young."