“In looks. They are all your own again. Glad to see it, old fellow.”
Some few days had elapsed since the latest event recorded in this veritable little history—the call that Major Leckie made on Captain Collinson, and found his brother there, instead of himself—but no change worth noting to the reader had occurred in the town politics. Lady Jenkins was ailing as much as ever, and Madame St. Vincent was keeping a sharp watch on the maid, Lettice Lane, without, as yet, detecting her in any evil practices: the soirées were numerous, one being held at some house or other every night in the work-a-day week: and the engagement of Captain Collinson to Miss Belmont was now talked of as an assured fact. Collinson himself had been away from Lefford during these intervening days. Pink, the hairdresser, thought he had taken a run up to London, on some little matter of business. As to the brother, we had heard no more of him.
But, if Captain Collinson had taken a run up to London, he had unquestionably run down again, though not to Lefford. On the day but one before the coming of Tod, Janet and Miss Cattledon went over by train to do some shopping at the county town, which stood fifteen miles from Lefford, I being with them. Turning into a pastry-cook’s in the middle of the day to get something to eat, we turned in upon Captain Collinson. He sat at a white marble-topped table in the corner of the shop, eating an oyster patty.
“We heard you were in London,” said Janet, shaking hands with him, as he rose to offer her his seat.
“Got back this morning. Shall be at Lefford to-morrow: perhaps to-night,” he answered.
He stood gobbling up his patty quickly. I said something to him, just because the recollection came into my mind, about the visit of his brother.
“My brother!” he exclaimed in answer, staring at me with all his eyes. “What brother? How do you know anything about my brother?”
“Major Leckie saw him when he called at your lodgings. Saw him instead of you. You had gone to Toome. We took it to be your brother, from the description; he was so like yourself.”
The captain smiled. “I forgot that,” he said. “We are much alike. Ned told me of Leckie’s call. A pity I could not see him! Things always happen cross and contrary. Has Leckie left Foxgrove yet?”
“Oh, he left it that same night. I should think he is on his way back to India by this time.”