The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK TM(45)
Daphne, meanwhile, was watching me closely. I could see she was anxious to discover what impression her friend Mr. Holsworthy was making on me. Till then, I had no idea she was fond of anyone in particular; but the way her glance wandered from him to me and from me to Hilda showed clearly that she thought much of this gawky visitor.
We sat and talked together, we four, for some time. I found the young man with the lugubrious countenance improved immensely on closer acquaintance. His talk was clever. He turned out to be the son of a politician high in office in the Canadian Government, and he had been educated at Oxford. The father, I gathered, was rich, but he himself was making an income of nothing a year just then as a briefless barrister, and he was hesitating whether to accept a post of secretary that had been offered him in the colony, or to continue his negative career at the Inner Temple, for the honour and glory of it.
“Now, which would you advise me, Miss Tepping?” he inquired, after we had discussed the matter some minutes.
Daphne’s face flushed up. “It is so hard to decide,” she answered. “To decide to your best advantage, I mean, of course. For naturally all your English friends would wish to keep you as long as possible in England.”
“No, do you think so?” the gawky young man jerked out with evident pleasure. “Now, that’s awfully kind of you. Do you know, if you tell me I ought to stay in England, I’ve half a mind… I’ll cable over this very day and refuse the appointment.”
Daphne flushed once more. “Oh, please don’t!” she exclaimed, looking frightened. “I shall be quite distressed if a stray word of mine should debar you from accepting a good offer of a secretaryship.”
“Why, your least wish—” the young man began—then checked himself hastily—“must be always important,” he went on, in a different voice, “to everyone of your acquaintance.”
Daphne rose hurriedly. “Look here, Hilda,” she said, a little tremulously, biting her lip, “I have to go out into Westbourne Grove to get those gloves for to-night, and a spray for my hair; will you excuse me for half an hour?”
Holsworthy rose too. “Mayn’t I go with you?” he asked, eagerly.
“Oh, if you like. How very kind of you!” Daphne answered, her cheek a blush rose. “Hubert, will you come too? and you, Hilda?”
It was one of those invitations which are given to be refused. I did not need Hilda’s warning glance to tell me that my company would be quite superfluous. I felt those two were best left together.
“It’s no use, though, Dr. Cumberledge!” Hilda put in, as soon as they were gone. “He won’t propose, though he has had every encouragement. I don’t know what’s the matter; but I’ve been watching them both for weeks, and somehow things seem never to get any forwarder.”
“You think he’s in love with her?” I asked.
“In love with her! Well, you have eyes in your head, I know; where could they have been looking? He’s madly in love—a very good kind of love, too. He genuinely admires and respects and appreciates all Daphne’s sweet and charming qualities.”
“Then what do you suppose is the matter?”
“I have an inkling of the truth: I imagine Mr. Cecil must have let himself in for a prior attachment.”
“If so, why does he hang about Daphne?”