The vicar and the two men of law had naturally expected that the party would break up by ten o’clock at the latest. Not that it mattered greatly to either Perrins or Hoskyns, who were to stay at Park Newton all night. But the vicar was an old man, and anxious to get home in decent time, so that when he began to fidget and look at his watch, Lionel, who was only waiting for him to make a move, knew that it would be impossible to detain him much longer.
“I must really ask you to excuse me, General,” said the old man at last. “But I see that it is past ten o’clock, and quite time for gay young sparks like me to be thinking of their night-caps.”
“I hope you are not particular to a few minutes, vicar,” said Lionel. “I have ordered coffee to be served in my room, and, with my uncle’s permission, we will all adjourn there.”
“You must not keep me long,” said the vicar.
“I will not,” said Lionel. “But I know that you like to finish up your evening with a little café noir; and I have, besides, a picture which I want to show you, and which I think will interest you very much—a picture—which I want to show not only to you, Dr. Wharton, but to all the other gentlemen who are here to-night.”
They all rose and made a move towards the door.
“As I don’t care for café noir, and don’t understand pictures, you will perhaps excuse me,” said Kester, ignoring Lionel, and addressing himself to his uncle.
“You had better go with us,” said Lionel, turning to his cousin. “You are surely not going to be the first to break up the party.”
“I don’t want to break up the party. I will wait here till you come back,” answered Kester, doggedly.
“You had better go with us,” said Lionel, meaningly, but speaking so that the others could not hear him.