A Lost Leader | Page 5

was immensely
impressed with him, lingered behind.
"Don't you really care for any games at all, Sir Leslie?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"I know that you think me a barbarian," he remarked, smiling.
"On the contrary," she declared, "that is probably what you think us. I

suppose they are really a waste of time when one has other things to do!
Only down here, you see, there is nothing else to do."
He looked at her thoughtfully. He had never yet in his life spoken half a
dozen words with man, woman or child without wondering whether
they might not somehow or other contribute towards his scheme of life.
Clara Mannering was pretty, and no doubt foolish. She lived alone with
her uncle, and possibly had some influence over him. It was certainly
worth while.
"I 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