Salthaven | Page 9

you, sir," said Bassett. He gave a slow glance at the window,
and, arranging the cheques neatly, turned toward the door.
"Will Mr. Hartley be long?" inquired Joan, turning round.
"Mr. Hartley, miss?" said Bassett, pausing, with his hand on the knob.
"Mr. Hartley left half an hour ago."
Mr. Vyner, who felt the eyes of Miss Hartley fixed upon him, resisted
by a supreme effort the impulse to look at her in return.
"Bassett!" he said, sharply.
"Sir?" said the other.. "Didn't you," said Mr. Vyner, with a fine and
growing note of indignation in his voice--"didn't you tell Mr. Hartley
that Miss Hartley was here waiting for him?"
"No, sir," said Bassett, gazing at certain mysterious workings of the

junior partner's face with undisguised amazement. "I--"
"Do you mean to tell me," demanded Mr. Vyner, looking at him with
great significance, "that you forgot?"
"No, sir," said Bassett; "I didn't--"
"That will do," broke in Mr. Vyner, imperiously. "That will do. You
can go."
"But," said the amazed youth, "how could I tell--"
"That--will--do," said Mr. Vyner, very distinctly.
"I don't want any excuses. You can go at once. And the next time you
are told to deliver a message, please don't forget. Now go."
With a fine show of indignation he thrust the gasping Bassett from the
room.
[Illustration: A fine show of indignation 044]
He rose from his chair and, with a fine show of indignation, thrust the
gasping Bassett from the room, and then turned to face the girl.
"I am so sorry," he began. "That stupid boy--you see how stupid he
is--"
"It doesn't matter, thank you," said Joan. "It--it wasn't very important."
"He doesn't usually forget things," murmured Mr. Vyner. "I wish now,"
he added, truthfully, "that I had told Mr. Hartley myself."
He held the door open for her, and, still expressing his regret,
accompanied her down-stairs to the door. Miss Hartley, somewhat
embarrassed, and a prey to suspicions which maidenly modesty forbade
her to voice, listened in silence.
"Next time you come," said Mr. Vyner, pausing just outside the door, "I

hope--"
Something dropped between them, and fell with a little tinkling crash
on to the pavement. Mr. Vyner stooped, and, picking up a pair of
clumsily fashioned spectacles, looked swiftly up at the office window.
"Bassett," he said, involuntarily.
He stood looking at the girl, and trying in vain to think of something to
say. Miss Hartley, with somewhat more colour than usual, gave him a
little bow and hurried off.
CHAPTER V
SMILING despite herself as she thought over the events of the
afternoon, Joan Hartley walked thoughtfully homeward. Indignation at
Mr. Vyner's presumption was mingled with regret that a young man of
undeniably good looks and somewhat engaging manners should stoop
to deceit. The fact that people are considered innocent until proved
guilty did not concern her. With scarcely any hesitation she summed up
against him, the only thing that troubled her being what sentence to
inflict, and how to inflict it. She wondered what excuse he could make
for such behaviour, and then blushed hotly as she thought of the one he
would probably advance. Confused at her own thoughts, she quickened
her pace, in happy ignorance of the fact that fifty yards behind her
Captain Trimblett and her father, who had witnessed with great surprise
her leave-taking of Mr. Vyner, were regulating their pace by hers.
[Illustration: Were regulating their pace by hers 048]
"She's a fine girl," said the captain, after a silence that had endured long
enough to be almost embarrassing. "A fine girl, but--"
He broke off, and completed his sentence by a shake of the head.
"She must have come for me," said Hartley, "and he happened to be
standing there and told her I had gone."

"No doubt," said the captain, dryly. "That's why she went scurrying off
as though she had got a train to catch, and he stood there all that time
looking after her. And, besides, every time he sees me, in some odd
fashion your name crops up."
"My name?" said the other, in surprise.
"Your name," repeated the captain, firmly, "Same as Joan's, ain't it?
The after-part of it, anyway. That's the attraction. Talk all round
you--and I talk all round you, too. Nobody'd dream you'd got a
daughter to hear the two of us talk--sometimes. Other times, if I bring
her name in, they'd think you'd got nothing else."
Mr. Hartley glanced at him uneasily. "Perhaps--" he began.
"There's no 'perhaps' about it," said the masterful captain. "If you're not
very careful there'll be trouble. You know what Mr. John is--he's got
big ideas, and the youngster is as obstinate as a mule."
"It's all very well," said Hartley, "but how can I be careful? What can I