A Man's Man Part 23

In the joy of roaming round the familiar plantations and stables Hughie allowed the existence of Mildred Leroy's offspring to fade from his memory; and it was not until the party gathered for luncheon that he was reminded of the introduction in store for him.

The a.s.sembled company consisted of the host and hostess, D'Arcy, Hughie, Joan, and the young gentleman previously referred to as "Cherub." The others had departed on a sailing expedition. Joan had declined to go, alleging that she must stay at home and entertain her "keeper," as she had now christened Hughie; and Cherub had speciously pleaded a tendency to _mal de mer_, and remained at home to steal a march on his rivals.

The party was completed by two chubby infants of seven and five, in large pinafores and short white socks, who were presented to Brevet-Uncle Hughie as Theodora and Hildegard, though Hughie discovered, after a brief experience of their society, that they answered without resentment and much more spontaneity to the appellations of "Duckles"

and "Stodger" respectively.

They were deposited--it seems the right word--in the dining-room by an austere and elderly female, who groaned heavily at the sight of Captain Leroy, and eyed Hughie with unconcealed distrust before withdrawing. The small girls took their places one on each side of their mother, and sat, like two well-bred little owlets, taking stock of their new uncle.

Presently their vigilance relaxed. It is a truism that teetotalers are hearty eaters, and the consumption of what was placed before them soon occupied the attention of Mesdames Duckles and Stodger to the exclusion of all else, the latter exhibiting a particularly praiseworthy attention to duty.

Their sole contribution to the conversation was offered when Leroy pa.s.sed the claret to Hughie.

"Wine," remarked Duckles severely, "is a mocker!"

"Stwong dwink," corroborated Stodger, turning up the whites of her eyes, "is raging!"

The two ladies then groaned heavily in concert, and, having thus contributed their mite to the redemption of a sinner, resumed their repast.

At the end of the meal the numbers of the company were augmented by the arrival of John Marrable Leroy, aged two years--an infant whose apoplectic countenance sadly belied the small piece of blue ribbon inserted in his bib. Having taken his seat in his mother's lap, he proceeded, after the manner of babies, to give his celebrated entertainment. For the benefit of the company he obligingly identified various articles upon the table, and then proceeded to give an exposition (a.s.sisted by manual contortions) of the exact whereabouts of the Church, the Steeple, the Door, and the People. After this, without warning or apology, he deposited a nude foot in his mother's plate, having in some mysterious manner got rid of his shoe and sock under the table; and was proceeding to enumerate the respective marketing experiences of a family of little pigs, when his mother, deciding that it was high time this _seance_ came to an end, called upon him to say grace on behalf of the company.

John Marrable Leroy reluctantly ceased fingering his toes, and twisted himself into a state of devotional rigidity. He then closed his eyes, folded his hands, and breathed stertorously. All waited with devoutly bowed heads for his benediction.

"T'ank G.o.d--" began Master Leroy at length.

There was another tense pause.

"T'ank G.o.d--" repeated the infant despondently.

Another hiatus.

"'_For_'--dearest," prompted his mother.

A smile of intense relief illuminated the supplicant's troubled countenance.

"--Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten!" he gabbled cheerfully; and the meeting broke up in unseemly confusion.

It was a hot afternoon, and Hughie, who as yet was far from getting tired of doing nothing, was well content to sprawl in a basket-chair under a great copper-beech, and watch the others play croquet.

Presently Joan, swinging a mallet, came and sat on the gra.s.s beside him.

"Well, Hughie?" she began, regarding her comptroller rather quizzically.

"Well, Joey?"

Then they both laughed, or rather chuckled. The curious part about it was that while Hughie laughed "Ha, ha!" deep down, Joey did the same.

Tee-heeing and high-pitched feminine shrieking were beyond her compa.s.s.

She was the Joey of old, with the same gruff voice, though she had got over her difficulty with the _r_'s and _l_'s.

"It seems rummy," observed Miss Gaymer reflectively, "my being put in your charge like the guard of a train. Do you expect me to obey you?"

"Yes," said Hughie. He felt he was missing an opportunity of saying something bright and striking, but "Yes" was the only word he could think of besides "No."

"Oh!" replied Miss Gaymer enigmatically.

"Don't you intend to?" inquired Hughie.

"Well, it depends on what you tell me to do. If it was anything that didn't matter much I might do it, sometimes, just to save your face. But as a rule I shouldn't."

"Oh!" said Hughie, in his turn.

"I may as well tell you at once," continued the lady, "the things that it's no use scolding me about. First of all, I always choose my own friends, and never take recommendations or warnings from anybody. Then you mustn't interfere with my dancing or sailing or riding, because I love them better than anything in the world. Then, you mustn't try to prevent my reading books and seeing plays that you think are bad for me, because that sort of thing is simply not _done_ nowadays. And of course you mustn't call me extravagant if I dress nicely. Also, you mustn't expect me to go in for good works, because I hate curates. And don't give me advice, because I loathe it. On the other hand, it may comfort you to know--it does _most_ men, for some reason--that I don't want a vote and I don't smoke cigarettes. Oh, the poor little mite!"

She was on her feet and across the lawn in a flash, to where the obese Stodger, prostrate upon a half-buried tree-root, was proclaiming to the heavens the sorrow of a sudden transition from the perpendicular to the horizontal. She comforted the child with whole-hearted tenderness, and after taking her turn in the game of croquet, returned to Hughie and sat down beside him again.

"Well--what do you think of me?" she inquired suddenly.

Hughie regarded her intently.

"I don't know yet," he said. "I want to see a little more of you."

"Most people," said Miss Gaymer with dignity, "make up their minds about me at once."

"I won't do that," said Hughie. "It wouldn't be quite fair."

Joan pondered this retort and finally flushed like a child.

"That means that you have taken a dislike to me," she said.

"I didn't mean it that way," said Hughie, much distressed,--"really!"

"Anyhow, it means that you haven't made up your mind about me,"

persisted Joan.

"That is true," admitted Hughie, who was no hand at fencing.

"Well, do it soon," said Miss Gaymer. "I'm not accustomed to being put on trial. I may mention to you," she added complacently, "that I am considered a great success. Do you know what Jacky Penn told me?"

"No; what?" inquired Hughie perfunctorily. He was beginning to understand the inwardness of Mildred Leroy's warning that the girl beside him had not yet found her feet.

"He told me," said Joan, with an unaffected sigh of pleasure, "that the men here all call me 'The Toast.' What do you say to that?"

"A Toast," said Hughie rather heavily, "is usually 'an excuse for a gla.s.s.' I shouldn't like to think of you merely as that, Joey."

Miss Gaymer eyed her guardian with undisguised exasperation.

"Hughie, you have got fearfully old-maidish in the last nine years," she said. "Where have you been? In any decent society?"

"Sometimes; but not often. Not what _you_ would call decent society, Joey."