‘About twenty minutes; I may as well wait here,’ remarked Mr Golightly to himself as soon as the man had left him. ‘This will be a capital “coign of vantage” from which to spot the arrivals.’
He yawned, crossed his legs, and produced from his pocket a soberly bound little volume, which might have been a volume of sermons, only it was not. He read a page or two, then he yawned again, and then he shut up the book.
‘No, not even Alphonse Daudet has power to charm me this afternoon. Will she come?—will she not come? Does she love me?—does she not love me? Upon my word, I’m in a regular fever; pulse about a hundred and twenty to the minute. I wonder why they can’t inoculate one for love, the same as they do for other things. A mild attack for about a week, and then we should get over it for life.’
Suddenly he started and threw a keen look at the two young people some little distance away, whom he had scarcely noticed before. ‘Archie Ridsdale, by all that’s wonderful! I’ve not seen him for a century. Does Lady Renshaw know that he’s here, I wonder? and is she dragging Bella down to this place that she may try to catch the rich baronet’s son for her niece’s husband? It’s just like one of her ladyship’s moves. Well, I’m not going to worry myself with jealousy. Besides, somebody at the club said that Archie had engaged himself to a girl without a penny. I wonder whether that is the demoiselle in question. She looks pretty enough to turn any fellow’s head.’
Mr Golightly whistled softly to himself for a minute or two; then he muttered: ‘Wretched slow work watching another fellow spoon and not be able to join in the fun one’s self! That must be the girl. By Jove! Master Archie seems about as hard hit as I am.’
This latter remark was elicited by the sight of Mr Ridsdale sidling up to Miss Loraine with the evident intention of encircling her waist with his arm; but, as we have already seen, he was very properly repulsed. Presently Clarice rose and gathered up her heap of ferns and grasses.
‘You are not going indoors already, Clarice?’
‘Already! Commend me to your sex for being unreasonable. A pretty scolding I shall get from Mora for having been out so long.’
‘I don’t believe Madame De Vigne could scold any one, were she to try ever so much.’
‘You don’t know her. She has a terrible temper. It runs in the family.’