“I swear it’s true!” Torquil said, his eyes alight with glee. “Matthew, isn’t it true?”
“I’m afraid it is,” said the doctor, with a lugubrious shake of his head. “There’s no beating you at it!”
“Oh, isn’t there, by Jove?” said Philip. “That puts me on my mettle! Have at you, Jack-sauce! Cousin, if you mean to sit on the steps, sit on my coat!”
He stripped it off, and handed it to her, murmuring, with a reassuring smile: “I shan’t have to abduct you after all!”
She gave him a look of heartfelt relief, but no further words passed between them. He walked away to bargain for a few practice throws, and she carefully folded his coat of Bath superfine, and sat down to watch the contest, at first thinking that Torquil was by far the better player, and then, as Philip’s casts began to improve, coming to the conclusion that he meant Torquil to win, but not easily enough to make him suspicious. Now and again his cast beat Torquil’s, but more often his quoit was found to lie an inch farther from the hob. At the end of the match, Torquil was flushed, and triumphant, very hot, and beginning to be very much excited. He promptly challenged Philip to a return game, and snapped the doctor’s nose off, when that well-meaning but tactless gentleman advised him against over-exertion, repeating the challenge, the sparkle in his eyes hardening to a glitter.
“Tomorrow,” Philip replied.
“I tell you, I’m not tired!”
“You may not be tired, but I am! What’s the time, Doctor?”
The doctor, pulling out his watch, announced that it was nearly half past five, at which Kate sprang up, exclaiming: “As late as that? We shall be late for dinner! For heaven’s sake, don’t start another game!”
“Oh, what the devil does it signify? Mama ain’t coming down!”
“No, but your father means to dine with us, and it won’t do to keep him waiting,” said Philip imperturbably. “Furthermore, I have already had one brush with Gaston, and, I warn you, Torquil, if his sensibilities are wounded again,
“Gaston? What are you talking about?” asked Torquil impatiently.
“It’s my belief,” said Philip, eyeing his severely, “that you knew all about it, and took care to be well out of the way! See if I don’t give you your own again, that’s all!”
“But I didn’t!” protested Torquil, diverted. “I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about! I believe you’re hoaxing
He was still hovering on the brink of fury, but his curiosity had been roused, and by the time Philip had regaled him with a highly coloured description of his encounter with the chef, he was laughing again, and had forgotten his determination to play another game of quoits.
He was strumming on the pianoforte at the far end of the Long Drawing-room when Kate next saw him, twenty minutes later, and paid no heed to her. She thought he looked tired, and dispirited, and so, apparently, did Dr Delabole, who was watching him covertly when Kate came into the room, an anxious frown on his forehead. It vanished when he became aware of her entrance, and he got up bowing, and smiling, and handing her to a chair, with the slightly overdone civility which characterized him. Torquil stumbled over a passage, and brought his hands down in a crashing discord, ejaculating savagely: Fool, fool, cowhanded fool! I shall never be first Kate, never!”
He jumped up from the pianoforte, slamming down the lid, and coming with hasty, impetuous strides down the room, just as Sir Timothy entered, leaning on Philip’s arm. For a nerve-racking moment Kate feared that he was going to brush past his father, and fling himself out of the room, but either his cousin’s presence, or Sir Timothy’s gentle voice, bidding him good evening, made him stop in his tracks. He responded awkwardly: “Oh—good evening, sir!” and, after standing undecidedly beside a chair in the middle of the room, sat down, but took no part in the general conversation. This did not augur well for the comfort of the evening, but his temper gradually improved, and he ate what was, for him, a very good dinner. By the time Kate left the dining-room, he had made three spontaneous remarks, and had allowed himself to be drawn into a sporting discussion.
As she walked up the Grand Stairway, Kate wondered how to keep him diverted, and decided that the best plan might be to set out the Fox and Geese. This had amused him on a previous occasion, and might do so again. On the other hand, he might despise it as a child’s game: one never knew with him how long a craze would last. Everything depended on his mood, and tonight this seemed to be uncertain.
But when he came in he was smiling at something Philip seemed to have said to him, and as soon as he saw the Fox and Geese board, exclaimed: “Oh, I’d forgotten that! Look, Philip, do you remember?”
Philip waited until Sir Timothy had lowered himself into his accustomed chair before turning his head towards Torquil. “Look at what?—Good God! You don’t mean to tell me those are the pieces I once made?” he exclaimed incredulously. He walked over to the table, and laughed, picking up one of the lop-sided geese. “Ham-handed, wasn’t I? How in the world have they survived? Do you still play?”
“Oh, no, not for years, until I played with Kate, three or four evenings ago! I thought they had been lost, but she found them at the back of the cabinet over there, and we had a famous battle! I beat her all hollow, and she swore revenge on me. Are you ready to begin, coz?”
“Do say you don’t wish to play, Kate!” begged Philip. “I am persuaded you would liefer talk to my uncle! I shall then offer, very good-naturedly, to play as your deputy. Lord, how it takes me back! I wonder if I remember the rules?”
He sat down as he spoke, and began to set out the seventeen geese. Torquil, who had been inclined to resent his intervention, at once became enthusiastic, and Sir Timothy made an inviting gesture towards a chair near his own.
She had purposely set out the fox and geese on a table towards the other end of the room, and although it was not out of tongue-shot, a low-voiced conversation could be maintained which would neither disturb the players nor be overheard by them. Nevertheless, Kate moved her chair rather closer to Sir Timothy’s, saying, as she sat down: “Philip was right, sir: I have been anxious to talk to you ever since—ever since I knew that he does
“But were you in doubt? He must have expressed himself very badly!” said Sir Timothy.
She laughed, blushing a little. “No, but—I wasn’t expecting him to make me an offer, and I was afraid he might regret it. After all, it is only a week since we first met!”
“Are you afraid
“Oh, no, no!”
“Then why should he? He is not at all volatile, you know!” He held out his thin hand, and as she shyly laid her own in it, said softly: “I think you will suit very well, my dear. I’m glad to know that you are going to be happy. I feel sure you will be, both of you.”
“Thank you, sir!” she whispered, fervently squeezing his hand. “As long as you don’t dislike it!—”
“There’s only one thing I dislike about it, and that is that I must lose you. You brought the sunshine to Staplewood, my child! And I fear that when you leave I shan’t see you again. Your aunt won’t make you welcome. It is not I, but she, who will dislike your marriage to Philip. You know that, don’t you?” She nodded, and he continued, sighing faintly: “Philip tells me that you mean to break the news to her yourself. You would oblige me very much, Kate, if you won’t do so while she is still so unwell. She is all unused to having her will crossed, and I am afraid it will upset her very much.”
She replied immediately: “You may be easy on that head, sir: I will do nothing to upset her until she is better. What does Dr Delabole say of her?”
“He went up to see her when we left the dining-room, and has promised to report to me how she goes on. I daresay he will soon be with us, so I will say only one thing more to you, my dear! Whatever your aunt may say to you, let Philip be the judge of what is best for you to do—and be sure that you both take my blessing with you!”
Chapter XVII
Kate had no opportunity that evening to exchange more than a few whispered words with Philip as she slid
