‘Mr. Burchell, Cara and her father are dining with my boys and me. Edward is only with me for a few hours; he is going away by the last train. Will not you come, too, and join us? Then Cara can see a little more of you. Do you stay in town to-night?’
Two impulses struggled in Roger’s mind—to refuse disdainfully, or to accept gratefully. In the first case he would have said he had dined already, making a little brag of his aunt’s early hours—in the second—a calculation passed very quickly through his mind, so quick that it was concluded almost before Mrs. Meredith’s invitation.
‘I could,’ he said, faltering; ‘or, perhaps, if your son is going I might go, too, which would be best——’
‘Very well, then, it is a bargain,’ she said, putting out her hand with a delightful smile. He felt how warm and sweet it was, even though he was trying at the moment to see Cara. This was the kind of mother these fellows had, and Cara living next door! Surely all the luck seems to be centred on some people; others have no chance against them. He stood by while Mrs. Meredith got up, drawing her sons with her. ‘Come, boys, you can carry on your talk later,’ she said. ‘Good-by for the moment, Cara mia.’ Then she turned to Mr. Beresford, who stood gloomily, with his eyes bent on the fire. ‘You are not sorry you have broken the spell?’ she said, with a voice which she kept for him alone, or so at least he thought.
He gave his shoulders a hasty shrug. ‘We can talk of that later. I am going to see you to the door,’ he said, giving her his arm. The boys lingered. Oswald was patting his book affectionately with one hand. It was Edward who was ‘making the running’ now.
‘You are still coming to dine, Cara?’ he said. ‘Don’t turn me off for this friend. He cannot be such an old friend as I am; and I have only a few hours——’
‘So has he,’ said Cara; ‘and he told me he was coming. What am I to do?’
‘There are three courses that you can pursue,’ said Oswald, ‘Leave him, as Ned recommends; stay with him, as I certainly don’t recommend; or bring him with you. And which of these, Cara, you may choose will be a lesson as to your opinion of us. But you can’t stay with him; that would be a slight to my mother, and your father would not allow it. The compromise would be to bring him.’
‘Oh, how can I do that, unless Mrs. Meredith told me to do it? No; perhaps he will go away of himself—perhaps——’
‘Poor wretch! he looks unhappy enough,’ said Edward, with a sympathy of fellow-feeling. Oswald laughed. The misery and offence in the new-comer’s face was only amusing to him.