‘Mr. Rockley, I came here to-night to tell you two things. I apologise for being so late, but I only heard you were leaving yesterday. I have ridden a hundred miles to-day.’
‘Just like you,’ said Rockley; ‘and why the deuce didn’t you make them send you in supper all this time? You look as if you hadn’t saved yourself any more than your horse.’
Truth to tell, Master Bob was rather pale, and his eyes looked unnaturally bright as he bent them upon the speaker.
‘Plenty of time afterwards, sir,’ he said; ‘the business was important. First of all, Mr. Hampden has given me a partnership, and I am going to take up country in Port Phillip under the firm of Hampden and Clarke. The cattle are drafted and started—five hundred head of picked Herefords—Joe Curle is with them, and young Warner. I’m going by sea to be ready for them when they come over.’
‘I’m sincerely glad to hear it, my dear Bob,’ said Rockley in his most cordial manner—one peculiar to him when he had become aware of something to another man’s advantage. ‘Why, you had better come down with us this week in the Mary Anne. I’ve chartered her, and she is crammed full, but, of course, I can give any one a passage. I can’t tell you how glad I am. Mrs. Rockley!’ he cried out as that well-beloved matron appeared and held out her hand with a smile of good omen to the not fully reassured Bob, ‘are we never to have anything to eat to-night? Here’s Bob Clarke has ridden a hundred and fifty miles, and dying of hunger before your eyes; but, of course, of course’—here he changed into a tragic tone of injury—‘if I’m not to be master in my own house——’
Mrs. Rockley, with her placid countenance, only relieved by a glance at Wilfred, swiftly withdrew, and Rockley, to whom it had suddenly occurred as he looked at Wilfred that complications might arise from his subjecting his daughter to the perilous companionship of a sea-voyage with so noted a detrimental as Bob Clarke, looked like a hound that had outrun the scent, desirous of trying back, but not quite certain of his line.
‘Well, Bob, I am sure you will do well in Port Phillip; you have had lots of experience, and no man can work harder when he likes, I will say that for you; but it’s a fast place, a very fast place, I tell you, sir; and if you give yourself up to that confounded racing and steeplechasing, I know what will come of it.’
‘Mr. Rockley,’ said Bob again, with the air of a man who steadies his horse at a rasper, ‘I came to ask you for your daughter. I know I’ve not done much so far, but she likes me, and I feel I shall be successful in life or go to the devil—according to your answer this night.’
Mr. Rockley looked first at one and then at the other of his young friends in much astonishment. This surprise was so great that for once he was unable to give vent to his ideas.
Before he could gather self-possession, Wilfred Effingham spoke. ‘My dear Rockley, from circumstances which have come to my knowledge, but which I am in honour bound not to reveal, I can assure you that your daughter’s happiness is deeply concerned in my friend Clarke’s proposal. As a friend of the family—who takes the deepest interest in her future welfare—let me beg of you to give the matter your most favourable consideration.’