Chapter Thirty Six.
How Hawkesbury and I came across one another rather seriously.
It took a great effort to appear before Hawkesbury next morning as if I was not aware of his meanness. Now Jack was away, he once again put on an air of friendliness towards me which was particularly aggravating. Had he only made himself disagreeable, and given me an opportunity of venting my wrath, I should have been positively grateful. But to stand by all day and be simpered to, and even cringed to, was galling in the extreme.
I did once venture on a mild protest.
He was speaking to me about the coming holidays, and begging me in a most humble manner to choose what time I should like to take mine, assuring me that any time would do for him.
I suggested, curtly, that as Doubleday had not yet had his holiday I considered he had first choice.
“Oh,” he said, “I don’t think so. Besides, Batchelor, Doubleday and I could both be away at the same time; but I really would hardly feel comfortable in going unless you could take charge of the petty-cash while I am away.”
“Smith will be back,” I said; “he could do that for you.”
As I expected, his face clouded.