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CHAPTER XX. Mr. Locker determines to rush the Enemy's Position
The party at Broadstone was not in what might be called a congenial
condition. There were among them elements of unrest which prevented that
assimilation which is necessary to social enjoyment. Even the ordinarily
placid Mr. Fox was dissatisfied. The trouble with him was--although he
did not admit it--that he missed the company of Miss Asher. He had found
her most agreeable and inspiriting, but now things had changed, and he
did not seem to have any opportunity for the lively chats of a few days
before. He remarked to his wife that he thought Broadstone was getting
very dull, and he should be rather glad when the time came for them to
leave. Mrs. Fox was not of his opinion; she enjoyed the state of affairs
more than she had done when her husband had been better pleased. There
was something going on which she did not understand, and she wanted to
find out what it was. It concerned Miss Asher and one of the young men,
but which one she could not decide. In any case it troubled Mrs.
Easterfield, and that was interesting.
Claude Locker seemed to be a changed man; he no longer made jokes or
performed absurdities. He had become wonderfully vigilant, and seemed to
be one who continually bided his time. He bided it so much that he was
of very little use as a member of the social circle.
Mr. Du Brant was also biding his time, but he did not make the fact
evident. He was very vigilant also, but was very quiet, and kept himself
in the background. He had seen Olive and Mr. Hemphill go out in the
boat, but he determined totally to ignore that interesting occurrence.
The moment he had an opportunity he would speak to Olive again, and the
existence of other people did not concern him.
Mr. Hemphill was walking by the river; Olive had not allowed him to come
to the house with her, for his face was so radiant with the ecstasy of
not having been discarded by her that she did not wish him to be seen.
From her window Mrs. Easterfield saw this young man on his return from
his promenade, and she knew it would not be many minutes before he would
reach the house. She also saw the diplomat, who was glaring across the
grounds at some one, probably Mr. Locker, who, not unlikely, was glaring
back at him. She had come up-stairs to do some writing, but now she put
down her pen and called to her secretary.
"Miss Raleigh," said she, "it has been a good while since you have done
anything for me."
"Indeed it has," said the other with a sigh.
"But I want you to do something this minute. It is strictly confidential
business. I want you to go down on the lawn, or any other place where
Miss Asher may be, and make yourself _mal a propos_. I am busy now, but
I will relieve you before very long. Can you do that? Do you
understand?"
The aspect of the secretary underwent a total change. From a dull,
heavy-eyed woman she became an intent, an eager emissary. Her hands
trembled with the intensity of her desire to meddle with the affairs of
others.
"Of course I understand," she exclaimed, "and I can do it. You mean you
don't want any of those young men to get a chance to speak to Miss
Asher. Do you include Mr. Lancaster? Or shall I only keep off the
others?"
"I include all of them," said Mrs. Easterfield. "Don't let any of them
have a chance to speak to her until I can come down. And hurry! Here is
one coming now."
Hurrying down-stairs, the secretary glanced into the library. There she
saw Mrs. Fox in one armchair, and Olive in another, both reading. In the
hall were the two little girls, busily engaged in harnessing two small
chairs to a large armchair by means of a ball of pink yarn. Outside,
about a hundred yards away, she saw Mr. Hemphill irresolutely
approaching the house. Miss Raleigh's mind, frequently dormant, was very
brisk and lively when she had occasion to waken it. She made a dive
toward the children.
"Dear little ones," she cried, "don't you want to come out under the
trees and have the good Mr. Hemphill tell you a story? I know he wants
to tell you one, and it is about a witch and two pussy-cats and a
kangaroo. Come along. He is out there waiting for us." Down dropped the
ball of yarn, and with exultant cries each little girl seized an
outstretched hand of the secretary, and together they ran over the grass
to meet the good Mr. Hemphill.
Of course he was obliged to want to tell them a story; they expected it
of him, and they were his employer's children. To be sure he had on mind
something very practical and sensible he wished to say to Miss Olive,
which had come to him during his solitary walk, and which he did not
believe she would object to hearing, although he had said so much to her
quite recently. As soon as he should begin to speak she would know that
this was something she ought to know. It was about his mother, who had
an income of her own, and did not in the least depend upon her son. Miss
Olive would certainly agree with him that it was proper for him to tell
her this.
But the little girls seized his hands and led him away to a bench,
where, having seated him almost forcibly, each climbed upon a knee. The
good Mr. Hemphill sent a furtive glare after Miss Raleigh, who, with
that smile of gentle gratification which comes to one after having just
done a good deed to another, sauntered slowly away.
"Don't come back again," cried out the older of the little girls. "He
was put out in the last story, and we want this to be a long one. And
remember, Mr, Rupert, it is to be about a witch and two pussy-cats--"
"And a kangaroo," added the other.
At the front door the secretary met Miss Asher, just emerging. "Isn't
that a pretty picture" she said, pointing to the group under the trees.
Olive looked at them and smiled. "It is beautiful," she said; "a
regular family composition. I wish I had a kodak."
"Oh, that would never do!" exclaimed Miss Raleigh. "He is just as
sensitive as he can be, and, of course, it's natural. And the dear
little things are so glad to get him to themselves so that they can have
one of the long, long stories they like so much. May I ask what that is
you are working, Miss Asher?"
"It is going to be what they call a nucleus," said Olive, showing a
little piece of fancy work. "You first crochet this, and then its
ultimate character depends on what you may put around it. It may be a
shawl, or a table cover, or even an apron, if you like crocheted aprons.
I learned the stitch last winter. Would you like me to show it to you?"
"I should like it above all things," said the secretary. And together
they walked to a rustic bench quite away from the story-telling group.
"So far I have done nothing but nucleuses," said Olive, as they sat
down. "I put them away when they are finished, and then I suppose some
time I shall take up one and make it into something."
"Like those pastry shells," said Miss Raleigh, "which can be laid away
and which you can fill up with preserves or jam whenever you want a pie.
How many of these have you, Miss Asher?"
"When this is finished there will be four," said Olive.
At some distance, and near the garden, Dick Lancaster, strolling
eastward, encountered Claude Locker, strolling westward.
"Hello!" cried Locker. "I am glad to see you. Brought your baggage with
you this time, I see. That means you are going to stay, of course."
"A couple of days," replied Dick.
"Well, a man can do a lot in that time, and you may have something to
do, but I am not sure. No, sir," continued Locker, "I am not sure. I am
on the point of making a demonstration in force. But the enemy is always
presenting some new force. By enemy you understand me to mean that which
I adore above all else in the world, but which must be attacked, and
that right soon if her defenses are to be carried. Step this way a
little, and look over there. Do you see that Raleigh woman sitting on a
bench with her? Well, now, if I had not had such a beastly generous
disposition I might be sitting on that bench this minute. I was deceived
by a feint of the opposing forces this morning. I don't mean she
deceived me. I did it myself. Although I had the right by treaty to
march in upon her, I myself offered to establish a truce in order that
she might bury her dead. I did not know who had been killed, but it
looked as if there were losses of some kind. But it was a false alarm.
The dead must have turned up only missing, and she was as lively as a
cricket at luncheon, and went out in a boat with that tailor's
model--sixteen dollars and forty-eight cents for the entire suit
ready-made; or twenty-three dollars made to order."
Dick smiled a little, but his soul rebelled within him. He regretted
that he had given his promise to Mrs. Easterfield. What he wanted to do
that moment was to go over to Captain Asher's niece and ask her to take
a walk with him. What other man had a better right to speak to her than
he had? But he respected his word; it would be very hard to break a
promise made to Mrs. Easterfield; and he stood with his hands in his
pockets, and his brows knit.
"Now, I tell you what I am going to do," said Locker. "I am going to
wait a little while--a very little while--and then I shall bounce over
my earthworks, and rush her position. It is the only way to do it, and I
shall be up and at her with cold steel. And now I will tell you what you
must do. Just you hold yourself in reserve; and, if I am routed, you
charge. You'd better do it if you know what's good for you, for that
Austrian's over there pulverizing his teeth and swearing in French
because that Raleigh woman doesn't get up and go. Now, I won't keep you
any longer, but don't go far away. I can't talk any more, for I've got
to have every eye fixed upon the point of attack."
Dick looked at the animated face of his companion, and began to ask
himself if the moment had not arrived when even a promise made to Mrs.
Easterfield might be disregarded. Should he consent to allow his fate to
depend upon the fortunes of Mr. Locker? He scorned the notion. It would
be impossible for the girl who had talked so sweetly, so earnestly, so
straight from her heart, when he had met her on the shunpike, to marry
such a mountebank as this fellow, generous as he might be with that
which could never belong to him. As to the diplomat, he did not
condescend to bestow a thought upon such a black-pointed little
foreigner.
Read next: Chapter 21. Miss Raleigh Enjoys A Rare Privilege
Read previous: Chapter 19. The Captain And Dick Lancaster Desert The Toll-Gate
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