'Introduced me to her! What introduction do you need at a stall at a bazaar, except to pay a couple of sovereigns for a shilling's worth of scent? Who told you I wanted to speak to Kate Harman? I'll tell you what it is, Baby; it's very unladylike to impute motives.'
'I never did anything of the kind,' said his sister, hotly. 'Never.'
She did not quite understand what accusation had been brought against her; but she did not like the sound of the word 'unladylike.'
'Very well,' said he, laying down his cue, 'since you say I am incapable of speaking the truth, I suppose I must go and walk up and down the pier with you. There's one thing sure: I shan't be stared at.'
So he went and got his hat and cane and gloves, and when he had buttoned himself all over into the smallest possible compass, he called for his sister, and together they went out into the gusty, clear, sea-scented morning.
They had the spacious thoroughfare nearly to themselves, though the pavements were fairly dry now. For the day was wild-looking still, the occasional gleam of sunlight was spectral and watery, and a black shadow melting into a soft gray told of showers falling far away at sea. At a great many drawing-room windows, coffee-room windows, club windows, were people standing, their hands behind their back, apparently uncertain whether or not to venture out. And no doubt some of these, remarking Tom and Madge Beresford pass, must have thought they formed a very handsome couple—the tall, well-built young fellow who looked three-and-twenty, though he was not so much, and the pretty girl of eighteen who also had a good figure and walked well. Their features were much alike too; most would have guessed them to be brother and sister.
'I observe,' remarked Mr. Tom, profoundly, as he gazed with admiration at his own boots, 'that when I come out with you, Baby, I have to do all the talking. When I go out with Nan, now, she does it all and I am amused. It isn't that I am selfish; but a girl come to your time of life—a woman indeed—ought to cultivate the art of amusing people. There is a want of originality about you——'
'There is a want of politeness about you,' said Miss Madge, calmly.
'There is not that flow of ideas that helps one to pass the time. Now that ought to be the business of women. Men who have the hard work of the world to get through require to be entertained, and women should make a study of it, and learn to be amusing——'
'You won't talk like that to your rich widow,' said his sister, 'when you have to go to her for a cheque.'