The Nonesuch

He then took his leave, and went away. He reached Broom Hall as the shadows were lengthening, and strolled into the house, stripping off his gloves. The door leading into the book-room opened, and a slender sprig of fashion emerged, and paused on the threshold, saying with would-be jauntiness: “Hallo, Waldo!”

At sight of this unexpected visitor Sir Waldo had halted, one glove still only half drawn from his hand, a sudden frown in his eyes. He stood still for an instant; then the frown vanished, and he pulled off his glove, and laid it down on the table. “Dear me!” he said, in a tone of mild surprise. “And what brings you here, Laurie?”

Mr Calver, with the memory of his last encounter with his cousin uncomfortably in mind, was much relieved by the calm friendliness of this greeting. He had not expected to be met with an explosion of wrath, because Waldo never ripped up, or came the ugly; but he had feared that he might cut up a trifle stiff, perhaps. He came forward, saying awkwardly: “I’ve been visiting friends in York. Thought I’d come over to see how you go on.”

“That’s very kind of you,” said Sir Waldo politely.

“Well, I—well—you know, I don’t like to be at outs with you! The last time I saw you—Well, I was in a damned bad skin, and I daresay I may have said things I don’t mean! shouldn’t wish you to think—”

“Oh, that’s enough, Laurie!” Sir Waldo interrupted, a swift smile banishing the slightly stern look on his face. “Looby! Did you suppose I had taken an affront into my head? What a gudgeon you must think me!”

“No, I don’t, but—Well, I thought I’d post over to see you—beg your pardon, you know!”

“I’m much obliged to you. Come into the book-room! Has Wedmore done the honours of the house—such as they are?”

“Oh, yes! Well, I haven’t been here much above half-an-hour, but he brought me some sherry, and took Blyth off to unpack my bags.” He shot a sidelong look at his cousin, and ventured on a small joke. “I was pretty sure you wouldn’t throw me out of doors even if you had nabbed the rust!”

“Very unlikely,” agreed Sir Waldo, walking over to a side-table, and pouring himself out a glass of sherry. He drank a little, and stood thoughtfully regarding Laurence.

That exquisite, failing, not for the first time in a somewhat chequered career, to meet that steady, faintly amused gaze, cast himself into a chair, with an assumption of ease, and picked up his own glass from a table at his elbow, saying airily: “I hadn’t thought you meant to remain here above a sennight. Everyone is wondering what’s become of you! Is Lindeth still with you? Don’t he find it devilish slow?”

“Apparently not. Tell me! Who are these friends of yours who live in York?”

“Oh, no one you’re acquainted with!”

“I didn’t think I was.” He picked up the decanter, and walked across the room to refill Laurence’s glass. “What is it you want, Laurie?”

“I told you! We came to cuffs, and—”

“No, don’t sham it! You haven’t travelled all the way from London merely to beg my pardon!”

“I’ve come from York!” said Laurence, reddening. “If you don’t believe me you may enquire at the Black Horse, where I hired a chaise to bring me here!”

“I do believe you. I think you went to York on the Edinburgh mail. Or are you on the rocks again, and was it the stage? Stop trying to make a pigeon of me! You’ll only be gapped, you know! What’s the matter? Are you in the suds?”

“No, I am not!” replied Laurence angrily. “I may not be flush in the pocket, but I haven’t come to ask you to pay any gaming debts!”

“Don’t be so ready to sport your canvas! I didn’t suppose that was it. There might be other debts which you forgot to mention when you were last down the wind.”

“Well, there ain’t!” growled Laurence. “Nothing to signify, that is! And if there was, I shouldn’t ask you to dub up the possibles! Not after what you said a month ago! I daresay you think I’m a loose screw, but I don’t run thin!”

“I wish you will come down from these high ropes! I don’t think you a loose screw—though if I were to tell you what I do think you you’d be ready to eat me! If you don’t want me to dub up the possibles, what do you want me to do?”

“It may interest you to know, coz, that it’s been make and scrape with me ever since you left London!” said Laurence bitterly. “And when I think of the shifts I’ve been put to—Well, it’s the outside enough for you to be suspecting me of having come to see you only to get you to tip over the dibs! It isn’t that at all!” He paused. “At least,” he amended, “it ain’t debt! If you must know, I’ve hit upon a devilish good scheme—if I can but raise the recruits! Of course, if you don’t care to frank me—though it ain’t so much franking me, mind, as investing your blunt!—there’s no more to be said. But considering the times you’ve offered to buy me a pair of colours—”

“The offer still stands, Laurie.”