“Oh, yes he will, Miss Smith, because he is the most changeable of men himself! A weathercock, upon my honour!” And he pointed to the tower of St. Mary, which from the high ground of Redcliffe Parade on the farther side of the water, looks down on the Square. “Never of the same mind two days together!”
Vaughan snubbed him savagely. “Be good enough to leave me out!” he said.
“There!” the Honourable Bob answered, laughing, “he wants to stop my mouth! But I’m not to be stopped. Of all men he’s the least right to say that I mustn’t change my mind. Why, if you’ll believe me, Miss Smith, no farther back than Saturday morning he was all for being married! ’Pon honour! Went away from here talking of nothing else! In the evening he was just as dead the other way! Nothing was farther from his thoughts. Shuddered at the very idea! Come, old chap, don’t look fierce!” And he grinned at Vaughan. “You can’t deny it!”
Vaughan could have struck him; the trick was so neat and so malicious. Fortunately a man who had approached the group touched Vaughan’s elbow at this critical moment, and diverted his wrath. “Express for you, sir,” he said. “Brought by chaise, been looking for you everywhere, sir!”
Vaughan smothered the execration which rose to his lips, snatched the letter from the man, and waved him aside. Then, swelling with rage, he turned upon Flixton. But before he could speak the matter was taken out of his hands.
“Children,” said Mary Smith in a clear, steady voice, “it is time we went in. The hour is up, collect your hoops. I think,” she continued, looking stiffly at the Honourable Bob, “you have addressed me under a misapprehension, sir, intending to address yourself to Miss Sibson. Good-morning! Good-morning!” with a slight and significant bow which included both gentlemen. And taking a child by either hand, she turned her back on them, and with her little flock clustering about her, and her pretty head held high, she went slowly across the road to the school. Her lips were trembling, but the men could not see that. And her heart was bursting, but only she knew that.
Without that knowledge Vaughan was furiously angry. It was not only that the other had got the better of him by a sly trick; but he was conscious that he had shown himself at his worst—stupid when tongue-tied, and rude when he spoke. Still, he controlled himself until Mary was out of earshot, and then he turned upon Flixton.
“What right—what right,” he snarled, “had you to say what I would do! And what I would not do? I consider your conduct——”
“Steady, man!” Flixton, who was much the cooler of the two, said. He was a little pale. “Think before you speak. You would interfere. What did you expect? That I was going to play up to you?”
“I expected at least——”