Salthaven | Page 8

surveyed him in pained surprise. "I thought my father worked very hard," she said, with a little reproach in her voice.
"So he does," said the young man, hastily, "but he wouldn't if he only had my work to do; that's what I meant. As far as he is concerned he works far too hard. He sets an example that is a trouble to all of us except the office-boy. Do you know Bassett?"
Miss Hartley smiled. "My father tells me he is a very good boy," she said.
"A treasure!" said Robert. "'Good' doesn't describe Bassett. He is the sort of boy who would get off a 'bus after paying his fare to kick a piece of orange peel off the pavement. He has been nourished on copy-book headings and 'Sanford and Merton.' Ever read 'Sanford and Merton'?"
"I--I tried to once," said Joan.
"There was no 'trying' with Bassett," said Mr. Vyner, rather severely. "He took to it as a duck takes to water. By modelling his life on its teaching he won a silver medal for never missing an attendance at school."
"Father has seen it," said Joan, with a smile.
"Even the measles failed to stop him," continued Robert. "Day by day, a little more flushed than usual, perhaps, he sat in his accustomed place until the whole school was down with it and had to be closed in consequence. Then, and not till then, did Bassett feel that he had saved the situation."
"I don't suppose he knew it, poor boy," said Joan.
"Anyway, he got the medal," said Robert, "and he has a row of prizes for good conduct. I never had one; not even a little one. I suppose you had a lot?"
Miss Hartley maintained a discreet silence.
"Nobody ever seemed to notice my good conduct," continued Mr. Vyner, still bent on making conversation. "They always seemed to notice the other kind fast enough; but the 'good' seemed to escape them."
He sighed faintly, and glancing at the girl, who was looking out of the window again, took up his pen and signed his blotting-paper.
"I suppose you know the view from that window pretty well?" he said, putting the paper aside with great care.
"Ever since I was a small girl," said Joan, looking round. "I used to come here sometimes and wait for father. Not so much lately; and now, of course--"
Mr. Vyner looked uncomfortable. "I hope you will come to this room whenever you want to see him," he said, earnestly. "He--he seemed to prefer being in the general office."
Miss Hartley busied herself with the window again. "Seemed to prefer," she said, impatiently, under her breath. "Yes."
There was a long silence, which Mr. Vyner, gazing in mute consternation at the vision of indignant prettiness by the window, felt quite unable to break. He felt that the time had at last arrived at which he might safely fetch Mr. Hartley without any self-upbraidings later on, and was just about to rise when the faint tap at the door by which Bassett always justified his entrance stopped him, and Bassett entered the room with some cheques for signature. Despite his habits, the youth started slightly as he saw the visitor, and then, placing the cheques before Mr. Vyner, stood patiently by the table while he signed them.
"That will do," said the latter, as he finished. "Thank you."
"Thank 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