The Prospector | Page 6

indignantly. "You are not very polite."
"Oh, I am sorry, really. But I imagined the old lady looking at you and wondering what was your particular business, and then I thought of your difficulty in making it quite clear to her."
"Why! does she not call on anyone?"
"No. She takes her knitting and visits."
"Well, I'm going anyway, somehow. I'll ask Shock to take me."
"Oh, Betty, you could not do that," said Helen. "No man would like exhibiting his home, much less his mother."
But Betty shook her head decidedly, saying, "I'll find some way. Tell me, what does she like?"
"Shock."
"But I mean what amusement and pleasure has she?"
"Amusement! Shades of the mighty past! Why, Miss Betty," Brown's tone is sad and severe, "in my young days young people never thought of amusement. We had no time for such follies."
"Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed Betty impatiently. "Has she no other interest in life than Shock?"
"None. Her church,--she would regard your prelacy with horror,--and Shock, and Shock's doings and goings--and football, of course, as I have said. Shock plays, you see."
"Then I have an idea," cried Helen. "We'll--"
"Do go on," appealed Brown.
"Better give it to him," said Lloyd. "An idea, you know, is to some people a rare and valuable asset."
"Not now. Perhaps later I may impart it," said Helen.
"It would be a great kindness," said Brown humbly, "if you could let me have it soon."
"Nature abhors a vacuum, you know," put in Lloyd.
At this point the bell rang and The Don came in. He was a young man of striking appearance, handsome, dark, well set up, with the eyes of his Spanish mother, but with the head and jaw of his Scotch sea- captain father. With all his ease of manner there was a shy, proud reserve about him, and a kind of grand air that set him apart from any company in which he might appear.
After saluting the young ladies with a somewhat formal bow, he announced, "I want you, Brown."
"Oh, sit down," cried Betty. "Sit down, Mr. Balfour. We are not going to allow you to carry off our visitor in this abrupt manner."
"Yes, take yourself off," cried Brown. "You see I can't be spared."
"Please sit down," urged Helen. "We want to ask you about the match."
"I really cannot," replied The Don. "I am on duty, you see."
"On duty?"
"Yes. Looking after men who would stay out to all hours, and regale themselves upon cake and all sorts of indigestible stuff. And more than that, Shock is outside waiting."
"Oh," cried Betty, "do bring him in. For years Helen and I have known him, and yet we don't know him. Bring him in."
"Can you not persuade him to come in?" urged Helen.
"I am sure I cannot. But if you were to try--" The Don paused, looking doubtfully at her. Helen hesitated.
"Oh, he's awful, I know. He will hardly speak to me," interrupted Betty. "But if you'll come with me I'll humble myself before him."
In a moment or two, sure enough, they returned, with Shock following.
He was a big man, gaunt and bony, with a mighty pair of shoulders topped by a square, massive head on which bristled a veritable shock of coarse, yellow hair. But he had a strong, honest face, and good, deep blue eyes. He seemed too big for the room, and after shaking hands awkwardly with Helen, who had gone forward to meet him, he subsided into, deep arm-chair, struggling with his hands and feet.
The contrast between Shock on the one hand, and the elegant Lloyd and the handsome Don on the other, could hardly be more striking. All in the room were conscious of this contrast and sought in every, way to minimise it. Betty plunged into football talk, to which Shock listened for the most part smilingly silent.
She was determined to draw her unhappy visitor from his shell. But her most brilliant efforts were in vain. Poor Shock remained hopelessly engaged with his hands and feet, and replied at unexpected places, in explosive monosyllables at once ludicrous and disconcerting. Not even The Don, who came to her assistance, could relieve the awkwardness of the situation. Shock was too large to be ignored, and too unwieldy to be adjusted.
After a few minutes of hopeless endeavour The Don gave up the attempt and rose to go, saying: "You will need to excuse us. We are due at a meeting to-night. Come along, Brown."
The alacrity which Shock displayed in getting upon his feet gave abundant testimony to the agony he had been suffering during the last half hour.
"Yes, we must be off," said Brown, far more eager to go than was his wont.
"Will you not come again?" said Betty to Shock, as she shook hands with him. "My mother would be glad to see you."
But Shock could only look at her blankly, evidently wondering