Mr Etheridge smiled a little deprecatingly, and resumed his hat, which he had doffed on being introduced to Madame De Vigne.
‘No doubt, ladies,’ he said, ‘it must appear strange to any one who is unacquainted with the peculiarities of Sir William. After writing the letter which I have in my pocket, and sending me off with it post-haste, he no doubt changed his mind (Sir William very often does change his mind), and set off for London with the intention of seeing Mr Archie in person, and never troubled himself more about me and the letter. Just like him—just like him.’
‘And what do you propose to do now, sir?’ asked Madame De Vigne.
‘My plan is a very simple one, madam. I shall telegraph to London that I am here, and here I shall stop till I receive further instructions.’
‘You must be somewhat tired after your long journey, Mr Etheridge,’ suggested Clarice.
‘Well—well. So—so. But I’m an old traveller, and it don’t matter.’
‘Luncheon won’t be ready for some time; but if you would like some refreshment at once, I’——
‘Not at present, thank you—not at present.’ Then he added: ‘This seems a very pretty spot; and with your leave, I’ll just ramble about and look round me a bit.’
‘Do so by all means, Mr Etheridge,’ said Madame De Vigne kindly, ‘only don’t forget to be in time for luncheon.’
Clarice hesitated a moment, and then she said: ‘There’s a charming view of the lake a little farther on; if you would like to see it, I will show you the way.’