He decided to wait at least until evening.
In that great game that was being played, as poor Bessie fondly believed in reality at last, she had determined that it should at least be played properly. Thus dinner was a special function, and a solemn one; and although neither Mr. Meggison nor his son had yet reached that sublime point insisted upon in the pictures in the illustrated papers of "dressing" for it, she yet had hopes even that that might some day be accomplished. As a matter of fact, Aubrey, the better to show his complete independence, had a fashion of strolling in a little late, and sitting down attired in very loud riding clothes; old Daniel Meggison sported a frock-coat somewhat too large for him, and so was passable. Bessie fulfilled the dream of many years, and appeared always in white.
On this particular occasion the dinner gong had gone for some minutes, and after waiting uneasily Bessie had at last suggested that perhaps they had better go in to dinner. Meggison had not appeared, nor his son; the tale was complete otherwise. They straggled awkwardly across the hall, and into the big dining-room; and there the girl took one end of the table, and quietly indicated where the others should sit. The head of the table was vacant, and one other place; and Gilbert found himself watching with amusement to see what would presently happen.
Suddenly the door was flung open, and Daniel Meggison came in quickly, smiling broadly and with a somewhat feverish air of patronage. He did not even look at Gilbert; but he glanced round at the others as he took his seat, and tucked one corner of his napkin inside his collar.
"You should not have waited," he said quickly. "Unexpectedly detained; so many things to see to in a place like this. My child"—this to Bessie down the length of the table—"you remind me of your poor mother. That frock suits you."
"Thank you, father," said the girl.
Daniel Meggison began to gulp soup at a great rate; paused to say over his spoon—"Pretty country about here, Mr. Byfield—eh?"
"Very," replied Gilbert, looking at him steadily. "Do you find the house convenient?"
"There are certain things in it that I should change if it actually belonged to me," replied Meggison critically—"but it'll serve—it'll serve. I could suggest half a dozen ways in which money might be spent to improve it."