The Argosy | Page 5

kissed
Janet on both cheeks when the Major introduced her; asked whether she
was fiancée; complimented her on her French; declaimed a passage
from Racine; put her poodle through a variety of amusing tricks; and
pressed Janet to assist at her luncheon of cream cheese, French roll,
strawberries and white wine.
A slight sense of disappointment swept across Janet's mind, like the
shadow of a cloud across a sunny field. She had been two hours at the
Lindens without having seen Captain George. In vain she told herself
that she had come to spend the day with Major Strickland, and to be
introduced to Aunt Félicité, and that nothing more was wanting to her
complete contentment. That something more was needed she knew
quite well, but she would not acknowledge it even to herself. HE knew
of her coming; he had been with Aunt Félicité only half an hour
before--so much she learned within five minutes of her arrival; yet now,
at the end of two hours, he had not condescended even to come and
speak to her. She roused herself from the sense of despondency that
was creeping over her and put on a gaiety that she was far from feeling.
A very bitter sense of self-contempt was just then at work in her heart;

she felt that never before had she despised herself so utterly. She took
her hat in her hand, and put her arm within the Major's and walked with
him round his little demesne. It was a walk that took up an hour or
more, for there was much to see and learn, and Janet was bent this
morning on having a long lesson in botany; and the old soldier was
only too happy in having secured a listener so enthusiastic and
appreciative to whom he could dilate on his favourite hobby.
But all this time Janet's eyes and ears were on the alert in a double
sense of which the Major knew nothing. He was busy with a
description of the last spring flower show, and how the Duke of
Cheltenham's auriculas were by no means equal to those of Major
Strickland, when Janet gave a little start as though a gnat had stung her,
and bent to smell a sweet blush-rose, whose tints were rivalled by the
sudden delicate glow that flushed her cheek.
"Yes, yes!" she said, hurriedly, as the Major paused for a moment; "and
so the Duke's gardener was jealous because you carried away the
prize?"
"I never saw a man more put out in my life," said the Major. "He shook
his fist at my flowers and said before everybody, 'Let the old Major
only wait till autumn and then see if my dahlias don't--' But yonder
comes Geordie. Bless my heart! what has he been doing at Eastbury all
this time?"
Janet's instinct had not deceived her; she had heard and recognised his
footstep a full minute before the Major knew that he was near. She
gave one quick, shy glance round as he opened the gate, and then she
wandered a yard or two further down the path.
"Good-morning, uncle," said Captain George, as he came up. "You set
out for Deepley Walls so early this morning that I did not see you
before you started. I am glad to find that you did not come back alone."
Janet had turned as he began to speak, but did not come back to the
Major's side. Captain George advanced a few steps and lifted his hat.

"Good-morning, Miss Hope," he said, with outstretched hand. "I need
hardly say how pleased I am to see you at the Lindens. My uncle has
succeeded so well on his first embassy that we must send him again,
and often, on the same errand."
Janet murmured a few words in reply--what, she could not afterwards
have told; but as her eyes met his for a moment, she read in them
something that made her forgive him on the spot, even while she
declared to herself that she had nothing to forgive, and that brought to
her cheek a second blush more vivid than the first.
"All very well, young gentleman," said the Major; "but you have not
yet explained your four hours' absence. We shall order you under arrest
unless you have some reasonable excuse to submit."
"The best of all excuses--that of urgent business," said the Captain.
"You! business!" said the laughing Major. "Why, it was only last night
that you were bewailing your lot as being one of those unhappy mortals
who have no work to do."
"To those they love, the gods lend patient hearing. I forget the Latin,
but that does not matter just now. What I wish to convey is this--that I
need no longer be idle unless I