She drew her breath sharply as she finished her sentence, and, to judge by the startled look which went round, the same thought had flashed through every mind. Shipping! Ships that went out to the Cape! What better means by which to frustrate the most diligent search? Barney had always had a craving for the sea, and if this unknown “Jim” had influence in his office, and felt himself even indirectly responsible for the trouble in which the boy found himself, what more likely than that he would help him to a fresh start?
“I shouldn’t wonder one bit if that is the explanation,” cried Minnie triumphantly. “Two to one he has gone off in one of their boats; and a very good thing if he has. Nothing knocks the nonsense out of a boy like a good long voyage. He’ll be so thankful to get back that he will settle down to anything you like to mention. Got into trouble, I suppose, before he went? Nothing serious, I hope.”
She had shown herself so kind and sympathetic that Philippa could not refuse to reply, and Minnie listened to the story of Barney’s debts with indulgent sympathy.
“And so he ran away from them. Just what I have longed to do myself a dozen times over. Now, you will want to see Jim, and hear what he has to say. I shall be passing near his lodgings on my way home, and if Mr—er—Neil, isn’t it?—likes to come with me, we might interview him together. He gets home by half-past five, as a rule.”
She looked coquettishly at the Hermit, who was immediately seized with a paroxysm of embarrassment, twitched nervous fingers, and looked as supremely miserable as if his last hour had come. With the energy of despair he managed to blurt out a few words to the effect that—“Stephen—Mr Charrington—home presently—like to be present. After dinner, perhaps—could go together if Miss Caldecott kindly—left address.”
“Well, he doesn’t know how to flirt!” Minnie exclaimed blightingly five minutes later as she and Hope stood in the little hall for a few parting words. “Can’t understand a man like that. No patience with him either. No relation of yours, I hope, dear?”
“None whatever; but, oh Minnie, you should not want to flirt when you are engaged! I do hope you are not going to be married just because you are tired and discouraged and need a rest. I do trust you are not making a mistake,” cried Hope earnestly. “Are you quite sure you care for hint, and can be happy?”
Miss Caldecott laughed lightly. “My dear,” she said, “if I look thirty in my best new veil, it is more than time I was married. And I am so tired of paying my own bills! Jack is very well off, and I intend to make his money fly. It will be a new experience to spend money that some one else has earned.” She paused, looked for a moment into Hope’s wistful face, and added impulsively, “If you will promise faithfully never to tell Jack if you should meet him, I’ll let you into a secret. I’m frightfully happy! I’ve been in love with him for years. It was difficult to make up my mind when I had been my own mistress for so long, but now that I have given in, I wouldn’t go back for the world. It is nice to be loved and taken care of—far nicer than being independent. You will find that out for yourself some day soon.”
“Dear Minnie, I am so glad! I do congratulate you with all my heart; and ‘Jack’ too. You will make such a nice, cheerful, good-tempered wife!” cried Hope bravely; whereat Miss Minnie indulged in an elephantine byplay of bashfulness, and ran rustling down the staircase.
“An appalling woman!” the Hermit was reiterating in the drawing-room; but none of the sisters would agree with this denunciation.