"Not a good companion!" exclaimed Lord Robert. "What dam cheek,
Christopher! I have not my equal in the whole Household Cavalry, as you
know."
They both laughed, and we continued to talk in a sparring way--Mr.
Carruthers sharp and subtle, and fine as a sword-blade; Lord Robert
downright and simple, with an air of a puzzled baby.
When I thought they were both wanting me very much to stay, I got up and
said good-night.
They both came down the gallery with me, and insisted upon each lighting a
candle from the row of burnished silver candlesticks in the hall, which
they presented to me with great mock-homage. It annoyed me--I don't know
why--and I suddenly froze up and declined them both, while I said
good-night again stiffly, and walked in my most stately manner up the
stairs.
I could see Lord Robert's eyebrows puckered into a more plaintive
expression than ever while he let the beautiful silver candlestick hang,
dropping the grease onto the polished oak floor.
Mr. Carruthers stood quite still, and put his light back on the table. His
face was cynical and rather amused. I can't say what irritation I felt,
and immediately decided to leave on the morrow--but where to, fate or the
devil could only know.
When I got to my room a lump came in my throat. Veronique had gone to bed,
tired out with her day's packing.
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48