Naturally I was evasive as usually. I loved her, it was true. She was all the world to me. And my love was, I believed, reciprocated, but how could I admit my shameful compact with her father? I was now a thief, having been drawn into that insidious plot which I described in the previous chapter of my reminiscences as a servant to the King of Crookdom.
So we walked pleasantly along to the white-headed old village clockmaker, who was grandson of a well-known man who had fashioned the little grandmother clocks which to-day are so rare—the pet timekeepers of our bewigged ancestors. The name of the old fellow’s grandfather was on the list of famous makers of clocks in the days of George the Third, which you can find in any book upon old clocks.
On our walk back to the Hall we chatted merrily.
“I rather envy you your run out to Madrid,” Lola laughed. “I wish I could go to Spain.”
She was wearing a canary-colored jersey, stout boots, and carried a hefty ash stick, for she was essentially an out-of-door girl, though at night she could put on a short and flimsy dance frock and look the perfection of charm.
I took no notice of her remark, but purposely turned the conversation, and as we strolled back together we discussed a dance which was to be given two nights later by her friends the Fishers at Atherton Towers, about five miles distant.
On the morning appointed I met old Mr. Lloyd, who, to my surprise, had with him his niece, Miss Sylvia Andrews, a smart and pretty dark-haired girl of about twenty-five.
“At the last moment Sylvia wanted to come with me to see Spain,” the old gentleman explained as we sat in the boat-train speeding towards Dover. “I managed yesterday to get an extra sleeping-berth in the Sud Express.”
“I hope you will like Madrid, Miss Andrews,” I said gallantly. “You will find life there very bright and gay—quite an experience.”
“I’m greatly looking forward to it,” she said. “I’ve read all about it, and though I’ve been in France and in Italy quite a lot, I’ve never been in Spain, though I’ve always longed to see it.”