A Lost Leader | Page 5

do not know you nearly well enough, Miss Mannering," he said, smiling, "to tell you what I really think. But I can assure you that you don't seem a barbarian to me at all."
She was suddenly grave. It was her turn to play a stroke. She examined the ball, carefully selected a club from her bag, and with a long, easy swing sent it flying towards the hole.
"Wonderful!" he murmured.
She looked up at him and laughed.
"Tell me what you are thinking," she insisted.
"That if I played golf," he answered, "I should like to be able to play like that."
"But you must have played games sometimes," she insisted.
"When I was at Eton--" he murmured.
Mannering looked back, smiling.
"He was in the Eton Eleven, Clara, and stroked his boat at college. Don't you believe all he tells you."
"I shall not believe another word," she declared.
"I hope you don't mean it," he protested, "or I must remain dumb."
"You want to go off and tramp along the ridges by yourself," she declared. "Confess!"
"On the contrary," he answered, "I should like to carry that bag for you and hand out the--er--implements."
She unslung it at once from her shoulder.
"You have rushed upon your fate," she said. "Now let me fasten it for you."
"Is there any remuneration?" he inquired, anxiously.
"You mercenary person! Stand still now, I am going to play. Well, what do you expect?"
"I am not acquainted with the usual charges," he answered, "but to judge from the weight of the clubs--"
"Give me them back, then," she cried.
"Nothing," he declared, firmly, "would induce me to relinquish them. I will leave the matter of remuneration entirely in your hands. I am convinced that you have a generous disposition."
"The usual charge," she remarked, "is tenpence, and twopence for lunch."
"I will take it in kind!" he said.
She laughed gaily.
"Give me a mashie, please."
He peered into the bag.
"Which of these clubs now," he asked, "rejoices in that weird name?"
She helped herself, and played her shot.
"I couldn't think," she said, firmly, "of paying the full price to a caddie who doesn't know what a mashie is."
"I will be thankful," he murmured, "for whatever you may give me--even if it should be that carnation you are wearing."
She shook her head.
"It is worth more than tenpence," she said.
"Perhaps by extra diligence," he suggested, "I might deserve a little extra. By the bye, why does your partner, Mr. Lindsay, isn't it, walk by himself all the time?"
"He probably thinks," she answered, demurely, "that I am too familiar with my caddie."
"You will understand," he said, earnestly, "that if my behaviour is not strictly correct it is entirely owing to ignorance. I have no idea as to the exact position a caddie should take up."
"What a pity you are going away so soon," she said. "I might have given you lessons."
"Don't tempt me," he begged. "I can assure you that without me the constitution of this country would collapse within a week."
She looked at him--properly awed.
"What a wonderful person you are!"
"I am glad," he said, meekly, "that you are beginning to appreciate me."
"As a caddie," she remarked, "you are not, I must confess, wholly perfect. For instance, your attention should be entirely devoted to the person whose clubs you are carrying, instead of which you talk to me and watch Mrs. Handsell."
He was almost taken aback. For a pretty girl she was really not so much of a fool as he had thought her.
"I deny it in toto!" he declared.
"Ah, but I know you," she answered. "You are a politician, and you would deny anything. Don't you think her very handsome?"
Borrowdean gravely considered the matter, which was in itself a somewhat humorous thing. Slim and erect, with a long, graceful neck, and a carriage of the head which somehow suggested the environment of a court, Mrs. Handsell was distinctly, even from a distance, a pleasant person to look upon. He nodded approvingly.
"Yes, she is good-looking," he admitted. "Is she a neighbour of yours?"
"She has taken a house within a hundred yards of ours," Clara Mannering answered. "We all think that she is delightful."
"Is she a widow?" Borrowdean asked.
"I imagine so," she answered. "I have never heard her speak of her husband. She has beautiful dresses and things. I should think she must be very rich. Stand quite still, please. I must take great pains over this stroke."
A wild shot from Clara's partner a few minutes later resulted in a scattering of the little party, searching for the ball. For the first time Borrowdean found himself near Mrs. Handsell.
"I must have a few words with you before I go back," he said, nonchalantly.
"Say that you would like to try my motor car," she answered. "What do you want here?"
"I came to see Mannering."
"Poor Mannering!"
"It would be," he remarked, smoothly, "a mistake to quarrel."
They separated, and immediately afterwards the